THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
RIVERSIDE 


Photo  by  Mrs.  Algernon  /'<rAi>is 

ROBERT    BRIDGES,    D.LITT.,    LL.D.,    POET    LAUREATE 


THE 

POETS    LAUREATE 
OF    ENGLAND 

THEIR  HISTORY  AND 
THEIR  ODES 


/        BY 

W/ FORBES    GRAY 


E.     P.     BUTTON     AND     COMPANY 
31  WP:ST  23RD  STREET,  NEW  YORK 

19 '5 


PR  505 


PRiNTrD    BY    Sir    Isaac    Pitman 
&-    Sons,    Ltd.,    Bath,  England 


PREFACE 

Some  twelve  years  ago,  when  Professor  of  Poetry  at 
Oxford,  Dr.  Courthope  delivered  a  notable  lecture  on 
"  Life  in  Poetry,"  in  which  he  investigated  the  causes  of 
poetical  decadence.  Commenting  on  the  lecture,  in  one 
of  his  Spectator  articles,  the  late  R.  H.  Hutton  remarked 
that  poets  are  frequently  decadent  because  they  have  not 
the  judgment,  or  the  breadth  of  sympathy,  to  find  out 
the  healthier  instincts  of  their  age.  I  recall  this  opinion 
of  one  of  the  sanest  and  most  scholarly  of  modern  critics, 
neither  for  the  purpose  of  impugning  or  endorsing  it,  but 
simply  to  direct  attention  to  the  lamentable  fact  that  the 
history  of  the  Laureateship  furnishes  some  shining 
examples  of  "  the  art  of  sinking  in  poetry."  He  who 
wishes  to  know  something  of  poetical  decadence  cannot 
do  better  than  carefully  study  the  Laureate  odes  that 
were  turned  out  with  unfailing  but  most  embarrassing 
punctuality  during  the  long  interval  between  Dryden's 
deposition  in  1689  and  Southey's  appointment  in  1813. 
The  Laureateship  is  not  burdened  with  too  much 
honour.  Its  traditions  are  by  no  means  in  keeping  with 
its  venerability.  Of  the  fifteen  Poets  Laureate,  beginning 
with  Ben  Jonson  and  ending  with  Austin,  only  one 
thoroughly  understood  his  business  — Tennyson.  He  it 
was  who  redeemed  an  office  which  the  literary  pessimist 
had  almost  come  to  regard  as  irredeemable.  Jonson  and 
Dryden,  their  greatness  notwithstanding,  were  hardly 
Laureates  in  the  modern  sense.  Southey,  occasionally 
passable,  was  prone  to  rhapsodize.  Wordsworth,  unfor- 
tunately, wrote  no  Laureate  odes.  Austin,  again,  whose 
lyricism    was    frequently    above    suspicion,     produced 

ill 


IV 


PREFACE 


official  poems  which  "  the  vague  general  verdict  of  popular 
Fame  "  (to  which  F.  T.  Palgrave  was  wont  to  appeal) 
would  probably  have  estimated  more  highly,  if  they  had 
not  had  the  misfortune  to  follow  the  masterpieces  of 
Tennyson.  As  for  the  lucubrations  of  the  remaining 
Laureates,  they  remind  one  of  Swift's  satiric  words  about 
"  the  gentle  down-hill  way  to  the  bathos,  the  bottom,  the 
end,  the  central  point,  the  non  plus  ultra,  of  true  modem 
poesy." 

But  while  the  Laureateship  is  largely  a  record  of 
mediocre  poetry,  and  witnesses  to  the  indestructible  and 
bewitching  power  of  flattery,  it  nevertheless  affords  many 
profitable  lessons  for  the  student  of  English  hterary 
history.  The  antiquity  and  privileges  of  the  office,  its 
relations  with  Royalty  and  with  party  politics,  and  its 
influence  on  the  fortunes  of  English  poetry  are  substantial 
reasons  why  the  history  of  the  Laureateship  should 
receive  more  attention  than  it  has  hitherto  done. 

In  the  following  pages  an  attempt  has  been  made  to 
trace  briefly  the  vicissitudes  of  the  Laureateship  during 
three  centuries ;  to  exhibit  its  connection  with  the 
monarchy  and  with  political  history  ;  and  to  present 
readable  sketches  of  the  careers  and  the  poetic  achieve- 
ment of  the  lesser  known  Laureates,  together  with  spe- 
cimens of  their  odes.  In  the  case  of  such  well-known 
literary  figures  as  Jonson,  Dryden,  Southey,  Wordsworth, 
and  Tennyson,  I  have  contented  myself  by  merely 
recording  those  incidents  which  throw  light  upon  their 
Laureateship. 

As  is  perhaps  obvious,  the  work  makes  no  pretence  to 
being  exhaustive.  What  I  have  aimed  at  is  not  an 
elaborate  treatise  buttressed  by  recondite  foot-notes,  but 
a  concise  and  trustworthy  narrative  that  shall  include 
what  is  likely  to  instruct,  interest,  and  even  amuse  the 
reader  who  is  desirous  of  making  the  acquaintance  of 


PREFACE  V 

those  wearers  of  the  laurel  who  have  well-nigh  been 
edipsed  by  the  full-orbed  splendour  of  Tennyson.  Con- 
sequently, I  have  tried,  by  means  of  anecdote  and  other- 
wise, to  concentrate  attention  upon  the  personalities  of 
the  earher  Laureates,  upon  their  friends,  their  literary 
feuds,  the  general  conditions  under  which  they  lived  and 
wrote.  The  wretched  odes  which  they  usually  composed 
are  secondary.  I  have  also  prefixed  a  chapter  sketching, 
roughly.  Court  poets  and  poetry  in  England  before  Ben 
Jonson,  to  whom  belongs  the  distinction  of  bemg  the  first 
accredited  Poet  Laureate. 

It  has  been  suggested  to  me  that  I  might  have  devoted 
some  space  to  the  vexed  question  whether  the  office  of 
Poet  Laureate  should  be  abolished.  I  have  purposely 
refrained  for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  the  subject 
does  not  come  within  the  scope  of  this  work  ;  and,  in 
the  next,  I  consider  such  a  discussion  would  be  both 
futile  and  unbecoming,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  Lau- 
reateship  has  so  recently  been  given  a  new  lease  of  life 
under  auspicious  circumstances.  I  will  only  add,  what 
I  trust  I  have  made  clear  in  the  chapters  on  Wordsworth 
and  Tennyson,  that  those  who  wish  to  arrive  at  a  right 
conclusion  regarding  this  matter  would  do  well  to  remem- 
ber that  the  conditions  of  the  Laureateship  to-day  are 
very  different  from  those  which  prevailed  during  the 
Georgian  era. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  volume,  my  debt  is  necessarily 
extensive.  As  the  references  show,  I  have  consulted  a 
large  number  of  works,  many  of  them  not  easily  accessible. 
To  standard  works  of  reference  like  the  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography  and  Chambers's  Cyclopaedia  of 
English  Literature,  I  make  grateful  mention  of  my  obliga- 
tions. I  ought  also  to  acknowledge  my  indebtedness  to 
an  earlier  work  on  the  Laureates,  by  Walter  Hamilton. 
The'volume  was  published  in  1879,  and  is  therefore  much 

A— (2341) 


vi  PREFACE 

out  of  date,  but  I  found  it  helpful  in  collecting  the  satirical 
pieces  of  one  kind  and  another  that  were  so  plentifully 
showered  upon  the  pre-Victorian  Laureates.  Hamilton, 
however,  is  frequently,  sometimes  grievously,  inaccurate, 
especially  in  his  citations,  and  I  have  not  only  corrected 
but  largely  supplemented  his  information. 

My  warmest  thanks  are  due  to  Emeritus-Professor 
Knight  for  kindly  help,  and  for  allowing  me  to  quote 
relevant  passages  from  his  Life  of  Wordsworth  as  well 
as  a  portion  of  the  "  Installation  Ode  "  ;  to  Lord  Tenn^^son 
for  granting  me  permission  to  quote  the  following  copy- 
right poems  from  his  father's  works,  "  The  Alma  River," 
"  Ode  on  the  Opening  of  the  Indian  and  Colonial  Exhibi- 
tion," and  the  poems  on  Princess  Beatrice  and  the  Duke 
of  Clarence,  likewise  a  few  brief  extracts  from  the  Memoir  ; 
to  the  representatives  of  Mr.  Alfred  Austin  for  a  similar 
favour  with  regard  to  the  following  copyright  poems, 
"  Thou  Good  and  Faithful  Servant,"  "  The  Passing  of 
Merlin,"  "  Who  Would  not  Die  for  England  ?  "  and  the 
odes  on  Queen  Victoria's  Diamond  Jubilee,  and  the  death 
of  King  Edward  VII.  ;  also  a  few  extracts  from  the  Auto- 
biography ;  and  to  Dr.  Robert  Bridges,  the  Poet  Laureate, 
for  allowing  me  to  reprint  his  first  official  poem.  I  have 
also  to  place  on  record  the  courtesy  of  Messrs.  Smith, 
Elder  &  Co.,  in  giving  me  permission  to  quote  a  few  brief 
passages  from  Samuel  Rogers  and  his  Contemporaries. 
If  there  are  any  other  debts  which  I  have  unwittingly 
omitted  to  acknowledge,  I  trust  the  oversight  will  be 
forgiven. 

W.  F.  G. 

June.   1914. 


CONTENTS 


PREFACE    ..... 

I.  COURT   POETS   BEFORE   BEN   JONSON 

II.  BEN   JONSON    (1616-37) 

III,  SIR  WILLIAM  d'avenant  (1638-68) 

IV.  JOHN  dryden  (1670-89)   . 

V.  THOMAS   SHADWELL    (1689-92)      . 

VI.  NAHUM  TATE   (1692-1715)  . 

VII.  NICHOLAS   rowe    (1715-18) 

VIII.  LAURENCE   EUSDEN    (1718-30)       . 

IX.  COLLEY   CIBBER    (1730-57). 

X.  WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD    (1757-85). 

XI.  THOMAS   WARTON    (1785-90) 

XII.  HENRY   JAMES   PYE    (1790-1813). 

XIII.  ROBERT   SOUTHEY    (1813-43) 

XIV,  WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH    (1843-50) 
XV.  ALFRED,  LORD  TENNYSON    (1850-92) 

XVI.  ALFRED   AUSTIN    (1896-1913) 

INDEX 


PAGE 

iii 

1 

20 

33 

55 

79 

97 

114 

131 

143 

167 

185 

204 

218 

239 

252 

274 

291 


vu 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

ROBERT   BRIDGES,    D.LITT.,   LL.D.,    POET   LAUREATE 

Frontispiece 

FAOB 

BEN   JONSON 20 

From  an  Engraving  by  H.  Robinson,  after  the  Portrait 
by  Gerard  Honthorat 

JOHN  DRYDEN 56 

After  a  Portrait  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller 

THOMAS   SHADWELL        ......         80 

From  an  Engraving  by  W.  Faithorne.  Jun.,  after  a 
Painting  by  Kerseboom 

NICHOLAS   ROWE  .  .  .  .  .  .114 

After  a  Portrait  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller 

COLLEY  GIBBER 144 

As  Lord  Foppington  in  Vanbrugh's  play,  The  Relapse. 
From  the  Painting  by  Grisoni  in  the  possession 
of  the  Garrick  Club. 

THOMAS   WARTON  .  .  .  .  .  .186 

After  the  Portrait  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 

ROBERT   SOUTHEY 218 

From  the  Engraving  by  John  Opie 

WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH 240 

From  the  engraving  by  J.  Skelton. 

ALFRED,    LORD   TENNYSON 252 

(Photo,  Elliott  &  Fry,  Lomdon) . 

ALFRED   AUSTIN   ,.....,      274 
(Photo,  Elhott  &  Fry,  London). 


IX 


w 

H 
-< 

« 

< 

W) 

H 
M 
O 
Ci. 

M 

H 

(i< 

O 

M 
_) 
PQ 
< 


a 

o 

:^ 

CUD 

'3 
00 


^1 

P +3 
o 

U      IH 

OS 


V   en 

'-'    CO 


V 

a 
G 

<■ 


o« 

O 
o 

O 


Cfi 

a  a 

u 

rt  nJ  'O 

I-. 

a  a 

c 

OJ 

•^    "^ 

a 

o 

^^ 

_.  M  „  '-'     «   H-l  «  "'    -^ 


W 


w 

il 

o 

O 


V    0) 
Cue  bO 

iH      l-C 

o  o 


u 

O 

o 


r-i    <U  „ 

OJO 
(U    1;    4) 

l-C      lU     l-l 

O      O 


o 

O 


4; 
6C     - 

O 


-  o> 

rt   Oj   oj   rt 


o 

0) 


e  o 


V 

o 


lit 


•c 

^  d  d  d  d 

^s-o  -w  "O  -o 


o 


6C  , 


9 

H 

c 

a! 


fl  o 
a 

Oj  TJ 
P    '-' 


U 


El-" 

-o  o 
S  c 


rt     .    .    .    - 
^     -    ^    ^    " 

»-'  O  0>  CJ  C«5 
(N  «  »-<        C^ 


eo  c^  i^ 


i« 


O 
CO 


80  M  J:  l>  O 

■f  CC  CO  -v  ■* 


-.0  05 
■*  CO  liO 


CI 


00 


•SB     • 


■»-> 

ClJ 

9 

O 
4> 


l-i  'S 

lu  XJ 

■i-i  "7 

a  Cu 

'a  no  B^  a 

£  !?  rt  o  ;a 

-^  X  -*^   O    3 


in   u 

(U   o   o 


a 


O 
4-" 

<n 

C 


c 
o 

a 
o 


o 

pq 


CO  X  oc;J  1/5 

CD  CO  O  ^.  — 

^  x  (^  -O  r^ 


I 


I     I 


I 

^  o  CO  c-J  110 
r^  CO  CD  ""*'  CD 
ic  z.  i;  CD  -. 


00  ©  t^ 

-H  CO  1/5 

o  t>  r^ 

7  7  7 

■*  X  " 

r>.  X  t^ 

CD  CD  CD 


IC        O        CO 

00     <y>      ^ 

t^        t^        X 


I 

UO 


X 


I 


CO 
X 

4 


a 

c 
.  «    .    .    . 
> 

<     =2 

-         a> 

Q  „  ? 
g  c  "o  ^  15 

^  c  6  s 

c      ^  o  ^ 

*;  .t3  o  *  J? 


03 


a 

V 

0) 

A 

lU  T) 

a> 

las  Row 

nce  Eus 

Gibber 

■4-t 

^ 
^ 

a 

o  0)  P*^ 

nl 

(3    t^    D 

-3  pa 

-;    0}    O 

Z  JO 

^ 

a 
o 


(ft 

OS 

a 

o 

H 


V 

(ft 

a 

Oj 


a 

PC 


-a 

9 
O 

in 


X3 
o 


O    O  ' 


>> 


O 


4)      a  5  35 

Z     a.     a, 


a 


CO  "—I  "—I 
O  TT  CD 


05 
CD 


9  b  >; 

oSia 

£   O    9  T3 


V 


O  M  CO 

X  X  05 

777 

o  a>  1/5 
t^  o  CO 

C^  X  X 


I 


X 


a 
o 

9 
9 
<u 
H 


^<< 


V 

pq 


O 


NOTE 

From  the  foregoing  Table  the  following  interesting  facts  may  be 
gleaned — 

(1)  Tennyson  has  by  far  the  longest  record,  exceeding  D'Avenant's 
and  Southey's  (each  of  whom  held  the  office  for  thirty  years)  by  no 
fewer  than  twelve  years. 

(2)  For  the  shortest  Laureateship,  there  are  two  candidates — 
Shadwell  and  Rowe,  the  period  of  service  in  each  case  being  only  three 
years.  They  are  closely  followed  by  Warton  and  Wordsworth,  the 
former  being  Laureate  for  five  years,  the  latter  for  seven. 

(3)  The  most  youthful  Laureate  was  Eusden,  who  was  appointed  in 
his  thirtieth  j-ear  ;  the  most  elderly  was  Wordsworth,  who  received 
the  bays  at  73. 

(4)  With  the  exception  of  Tate,  who  was  a  native  of  Dublin,  al)  the 
Laureates  have  been  born  in  England.  Three  were  born  in  London, 
and  two  in  Yorkshire.  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  it  is  also  interesting 
to  note,  have  each  furnished  a  Laureate. 

(5)  Wordsworth  and  Tennyson  devoted  themselves  exclusively,  or 
almost  so,  to  the  Muses.  The  remaining  thirteen  Laureates  were 
prominently  identilied  with  other  vocations.  Nine  were  playwrights, 
two  were  clergymen,  one  was  a  police  magistrate,  while  another  was  a 
publicist  and  journalist,  Dr.  Bridges,  the  present  Laureate,  was 
formerly  a  medical  practitioner. 

(6)  Austin  was  Laureate  in  three  reigns — those  of  Victoria,  Edward 
VII,  and  George  V  ;  but  Southey  wore  the  laurel  in  four — those  of 
George  III,  George  IV,  Wilham  IV,  and  Victoria. 

(7)  Wordsworth  is  the  only  Laureate  who  never  wrote  an  ode  in  his 
official  capacity. 


n 


THE   POETS   LAUREATE 


CHAPTER  I 

COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON 

A  RECENT  writer,  in  quoting  Macaulay's  remark  that 
any  fool  could  say  his  Archbishops  of  Canterbury  back- 
ward or  forward,  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  intelli- 
gent schoolboy  might  not  be  equal  to  a  similar  per- 
formance in  regard  to  the  Poets  Laureate  of  England. 
The  wTiter  erred  on  the  side  of  caution.  He  might 
safely  have  gone  further,  and  boldly  asserted  that  many 
students  of  English  literature  would  find  it  extremely 
difficult  to  name  correctly,  and  in  the  order  of  their 
succession,  the  sixteen  English  poets  who,  during  nearly 
300  years,  have  been  officers  of  the  household  of  the 
Sovereign  of  Great  Britain. 

Unquestionably,  the  Laureateship  bulks  largely  in  the 
popular  imagination.  For  most  educated  people  it 
recalls  the  long  and  illustrious  reign  of  Tennyson.  The 
author  of  In  Memoriam  redeemed  the  office  from  the 
inglorious  associations  which  had  clung  to  it  almost 
continuously  since  the  days  of  Dryden,  and  invested  it 
with  a  dignity,  merit,  and  influence  that  is  never  likely 
to  be  excelled.  But  how  many,  even  among  those  who 
have  more  than  a  superficial  knowledge  of  English 
letters,  are  acquainted  with  the  wayward  fortunes  of 
the  Laureateship  during  the  Georgian  era,  when  the 
office  was  the  perquisite  of  a  faction,  and  its  occupants 
earned  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  versifiers  who,  though 
less  successful,  were  frequently  as  ridiculous  and  des- 
picable as  themselves  ?     Incredible  it  may  well  appear  ; 

1 

I— (8341) 


2  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

but  among  Tennyson's  predecessors  were  a  lackey,  a 
"  drunken  parson,"  and  a  police  magistrate.  The  truth 
is  that  the  Laureateship  in  the  popular  mind  has  become 
so  inextricably  associated  with  the  genius  of  the  author 
of  the  Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  that 
but  scant  attention  is  paid  to  the  fact  that  there  were 
many  wearers  of  the  laurel  before  him — one  or  two 
glorifying  their  office,  several  degrading  it,  and  all,  with 
one  exception,  keeping  a  vigilant  eye  on  "  sack  and 
pension." 

Gibbon,  probably  relying  on  what  Selden  had  written 
on  the  subject  in  his  Titles  of  Honour,'^  affirmed  that 
"  the  title  of  Poet  Laureate  which  custom,  rather  than 
vanity,  perpetuates  in  the  English  Court,  was  first 
invented  by  the  Cassars  of  Germany."^  But  the  term 
"  laureate,"  as  signifying  poetical  eminence,  can  be 
traced  to  a  period  much  more  remote.  In  ancient 
Greece  the  laurel  was  sacred  to  Apollo,  and  those  who 
had  courted  the  Muses  most  successfully  were  crowned 
with  a  wreath  made  from  its  leaves.  Besides  perpetuating 
this  practice,  the  Romans  invested  the  ceremony  of 
laureation  with  more  pomp  and  splendour.  Domitian, 
for  example,  when  he  attended  the  Alban  contests, 
himself  placed  a  chaplet  on  the  heads  of  those  com- 
petitors who  had  won  distinction  in  music  and  poetry. 
One  of  the  last  acts  of  this  emperor  was  to  present  the 
bays  to  his  Court  poet,  Statius,  as  the  prize  of  a  "  music 
and  gymnastic  "  contest.  These  laureations  continued 
for  long  to  be  a  notable  feature  of  Roman  life,  but 
about  393  a.d.  they  were  abolished  by  Theodosius  the 
Great,  who,  having  become  a  convert  to  Trinitarian 
views,  sought  to  drive  out  of  the  Empire  every  relic  of 
paganism. 

»  Chap.  43. 

'  Decline  and  Fall  of  ths  Roman   Empire,  vii,  256. 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   3 

With  the  advent  of  the  Renaissance,  and  the  emanci- 
pation of  the  individual  from  the  galling  bondage  of 
tradition  and  arbitrary  power,  the  ancient  custom  of 
crowning  poets  was  revived  at  Rome,  and  soon  laurea- 
tions  in  some  shape  or  form  became  common  in  several 
European  countries.  On  an  April  day  in  the  year  1341, 
Petrarch,  then  in  his  thirty-seventh  year  and  at  the 
zenith  of  his  fame,  ascended  the  Capitoline  Hill  and, 
after  discoursing  to  a  vast  auditory  on  the  joys  and 
rewards  of  poesy,  received  the  object  of  his  highest 
ambition — the  laurel  crown  of  old  Rome.  ^  Fully  a  cen- 
tury and  a  half  later,  Leo  X,  patron  of  art  and  learning, 
imparted  a  touch  of  bathos  to  the  ceremony  of  laurea- 
tion  in  the  case  of  Camillo  Querno,  who  had  arrived  in 
Rome  with  an  epic  poem  which  was  not  only  inordinately 
long,  but  portentously  dull.  This  effusion,  which  bore 
the  title  of  Alexias,  Camillo  recited  to  the  Mte  of  Roman 
society  on  an  island  in  the  Tiber,  being  assisted  in  his 
arduous  labours  by  copious  libations  to  Bacchus. 
Camillo  must  have  been  amazingly  voluble,  for,  if  all 
accounts  be  true,  he  inflicted  no  fewer  than  20,000 
lines  on  his  long-suffering  auditors.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  performance  he  was  dubbed  "  Archipoeta "  ; 
Leo  doing  him  the  doubtful  honour  of  crowning  him 
with  a  wreath  composed  of  laurel,  vine,  and  cabbage, 
and  decreeing  that  he  should  be  entitled  ever  after  to 
the  refuse  of  the  papal  banquetting  table.  This  incident 
tickled  the  fancy  of  Alexander  Pope,  who  conferred 
immortality  on  poor  Camillo  by  pilloring  him  in  the 
Dunciad — 

Not  with  more  glee,  by  hands  pontific  crown' d, 
With  scarlet  hats  wide-waving  circled  round, 
Rome  in  her  Capitol  saw  Querno  sit, 
Thron'd  on  seven  hills,  the  Antichrist  of  wit. 

1  Petrarch  :  His  Life  and  Times,  by  H.  C.  HoUway-Caithrop,  98-99. 


4  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

In  the  same  century  which  witnessed  the  discomfiture  of 
Quemo,  Torquato  Tasso  went  to  Rome  to  receive  the 
laurel.  He  was  cordially  welcomed  by  Pope  Clement  VHI, 
who,  in  offering  him  the  bays,  expressed  the  hope  that 
they  might  receive  as  much  honour  from  the  author  of 
Jerusalem  Delivered  as  they  had  conferred  on  those  who 
had  previously  been  laureated  in  Rome.  The  public 
ceremony,  however,  was  delayed  until  the  following  year  ; 
but  when  Tasso  arrived  in  the  Eternal  City,  he  became 
suddenly  ill,  and  died  in  the  monastery  of  Sant'  Onofrio 
un  the  Janiculum,  25th  April,  1595 — the  day  on  which 
he  was  to  have  been  crowned  as  Poet  Laureate  in  the 
Capitol. 

In  Germany,  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries, 
the  custom  of  presenting  crowns  of  laurel  to  distinguished 
poets  was  widely  prevalent.  Selden  ^  says  that  the 
right  of  conferring  the  title  of  Poet  Laureate  was 
originally  invested  in  the  Emperor  and  the  Counts 
Palatine.  In  course  of  time,  however,  this  authority 
was  extended  to  the  universities,  who  used  it  so  indis- 
criminately that  the  title  of  Poet  Laureate  fell  into  dis- 
repute. The  first  Poet  Laureate  of  Germany  was 
Conradus  Celtes  Protuccius,  who  was  created  by 
Frederick  III  (1415-93).  Protuccius  afterwards  received 
a  patent  from  Maximilian  I,  a  monarch  who  greatly 
encouraged  the  arts  and  learning,  naming  him  Rector 
of  the  College  of  Poetry  and  Rhetoric  in  Vienna,  and 
empowering  him  to  confer  the  laurel  on  students  of 
approved  poetic  worth.  There  is  on  record  an  interesting 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  one  Joannes  Paulus 
Crusius  was  laureated  at  Strasbourg,  in  1616,  by  Thomas 
Obrechtus,  the  Count  Palatine.  On  the  day  appointed 
for  the  ceremony,  Crusius  recited  before  a  large  assembly 
a  Latin  poem,  in  which  he  set  forth  his  qualifications 

»  Titles  of  Honour.   1672,  p.  336. 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   5 

for  the  laurel.  Then  the  Count  Palatine  delivered  a 
Latin  oration,  in  which,  after  extolling  the  art  of  poesy, 
he  exhorted  the  candidate  to  be  ever  true  to  his  high 
vocation.  This  must  have  been  one  of  the  last  occasions 
on  which  Obrechtus  conferred  the  honour,  for,  in  1621, 
the  Emperor,  Ferdinand  II  (1578-1637),  transferred  the 
right  of  creating  Poets  Laureate  from  the  Counts 
Palatine  to  the  University  of  Strasbourg.  By  this 
arrangement  the  laurel,  instead  of  being  awarded  for 
eminence  in  poesy,  became  merely  an  academic  distinc- 
tion to  be  won  in  the  same  way  as  a  degree  in  philosophy 
or  theology.  To  every  candidate,  the  Chancellor  pro- 
posed three  oaths  :  that  he  would  sustain  the  privileges 
of  the  university  ;  that  he  would  not  accept  the  crown 
from  any  other  university  or  from  a  Count  Palatine  ; 
and  that  he  would  in  all  his  poetical  effusions  acknow- 
ledge the  glory  of  God  and  the  honour  of  his  Imperial 
Majesty. 

The  learned  researches  of  Selden  elicited  no  example, 
curiously  enough,  of  the  laureation  of  a  poet  in  France  ; 
but  in  Spain  the  crowning  of  meritorious  poets  was  by 
no  means  uncommon  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Here, 
as  in  Germany,  the  custom  seems  to  have  flourished  on 
academic  soil,  the  University  of  Seville  having  originated 
it.  The  most  celebrated  Spanish  poet  laureate  was 
Ausias  March,  a  Catalan,  whose  popularity,  according  to 
Le  Tassoni,  was  as  widespread  as  that  of  Petrarch. 
But  if  we  are  to  judge  from  what  Cervantes  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  Sancho  Panza  in  Don  Quixote,  ^  Spain 
suffered  quite  as  much  as  Germany  through  having  too 
many  crowned  poets.  "  Forgive  me,  honest  Dapple, 
and  entreat  Fortune,  in  the  best  terms  thou  canst  use, 
to  deliver  us  from  this  vexatious  misery  in  which  we 
are  equally  involved  ;    in  which  case  I  promise  to  put 

1  Part  II,  Book  IV. 


6  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

a  crown  of  laurel  upon  thy  head,  so  as  thou  shalt  look 
like  a  Poet  Laureate  ;  and,  withal,  to  give  thee  a  double 
allowance  of  provender." 

How,  or  when,  the  ofhce  of  Poet  Laureate  arose  in 
England  has  never  been  definitely  settled.  Certain  it  is, 
however,  that  it  can  boast  of  high  antiquity.  Thomas 
Warton,  the  scholarly  historian  of  English  poetry,  of 
whom  more  anon,  adduces  valuable  evidence  to  show 
that,  as  in  Germany  and  Spain,  the  title  of  Poet 
Laureate  was  in  the  Middle  Ages  conferred  by  the 
universities  on  graduates  who  had  displayed  proficiency 
in  rhetoric,  and  in  the  writing  of  Latin  verses.  The 
recipients  were  presented  with  a  laurel  wreath,  and  were 
afterwards  usually  styled  "  poeta  laureatus."  These 
degrees,  which  were  more  common  at  Oxford  than  at 
Cambridge,  were  conferred  so  late  as  the  sixteenth 
century. 

The  first  instance  of  a  university  laureate  recorded 
by  Warton  1  is  that  of  John  Skelton,  who  was  crowned 
at  Oxford  before  the  year  1490.  Three  years  later  he 
was  permitted  to  wear  his  laurel  at  Cambridge.  Thus 
Churchyard,  writing  in  1568,  says — 

Nay,  Skelton  wore  the  laurel  wreath, 
And  past  in  schoels,  ye  knee. 

On  12th  March,  1511-12,  Edward  Watson,  student  in 
grammar  at  Oxford,  was  permitted  laureation  in  that 
faculty,  on  condition  that  he  composed  a  Latin  comedy, 
or  100  Latin  verses  in  praise  of  his  university.  In  the 
year  1512,  Richard  Smyth  obtained  a  similar  concession, 
provided  he  affixed  100  Latin  hexameters  to  the  gates 
of  St.  Mary's  Church  ;  while  Maurice  Byrchenshaw, 
scholar  in  rhetoric,  was  informed  that  he  might  become 
a  Poet  Laureate  if,  besides  producing  the  customary 
number  of  Latin  verses,  he  refrained  from  reading  Ovid's 

1  History  of  English  Poetry,  ed.  W.  C.^;Hazlitt,..iii,^126-7. 


COURT   POETS   BEFORE   BEN   JONSON        7 

Art  of  Love  and  the  Elegies  of  Pamphilus  to  his  pupils. 
In  1513,  Robert  Whittington  supphcated  the  congrega- 
tion of  regents  at  Oxford  for  laureation  in  grammar, 
which  was  granted.  Whittington,  who  is  believed  to 
have  been  the  last  recipient  of  the  laurel  at  Oxford,  wrote 
fulsome  poems  on  Henry  VIII  and  Cardinal  Wolse3^ 
but  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  he  held  an  official 
appointment  at  Court. 

Between  the  university  laureates  and  those  poets  who 
were  attached  to  the  royal  household,  there  appears  to 
have  been  some  connection.  "  It  seems  most  probable," 
says  Warton,  "  that  the  barbarous  and  inglorious  name 
of  versifier  gradually  gave  way  to  an  appellation  of  more 
elegance  and  dignity  ;  or,  rather,  that  at  length  those 
only  were  in  general  invited  to  this  appointment,  who 
had  received  academical  sanction,  and  had  merited  a 
crown  of  laurel  in  the  universities  for  their  abilities  in 
Latin  versification."  ^  The  king's  laureate  was,  he  con- 
cludes, nothing  more  than  "  a  graduated  rhetorician 
employed  in  the  service  of  the  king."  ^  But,  however 
this  may  be,  there  seems  to  have  been  from  time 
immemorial  a  poet  attached  to  the  Court  whose  duty  it 
was  to  sing  the  praises  of  the  reigning  monarch,  and 
who  was  rewarded  by  a  grant  from  the  royal  purse  or 
a  tierce  of  canary.  In  early  times  this  bard  was  known 
as  the  Versificator  Regis,  but  in  the  reign  of  Edward  IV 
he  was  styled  Poet  Laureate. 

The  first  recorded  instance  of  a  King's  Versifier  in 
England  is  that  of  a  poet  named  Wale,  who  is  said  to 
have  attended  the  Court  of  Henry  I.  In  the  Crusading 
days,  Richard  I  took  with  him  to  Palestine,  Gulielmus 
Peregrinus  (William  the  Foreigner),  who  sang  the  achieve- 
ments of  his  royal  master  in  a  Latin  poem,  which  he 

1  Warton  :    History  of  English  Poetry,  iii,  127. 
^  Ibid.,  iii,  127-8. 


8  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

dedicated  to  Herbert,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and 
Stephen  Turnham,  a  warrior  in  the  army  of  the  faithful. 
Henry  HI  had  also  a  poet,  called  "  Master  Henry  the 
Versifier,"  who  is  historically  interesting  on  two  grounds. 
In  the  first  place,  he  was  a  Frenchman,  and  most 
probably  wrote  in  his  native  tongue  ;  and  in  the  next 
he  is  the  first  salaried  poet  of  whom  we  have  any  record. 
In  1251,  Henry  HI  ordered  that  there  should  be  paid 
to  "  Master  Henry  the  Versifier"  the  sum  of  100  shillings, 
which  Warton  supposes  to  have  been  a  year's  salary.  ^ 
Then  there  was  Robert  Baston,  who,  after  being  crowned 
with  laurel  at  Oxford,  accompanied  Edward  H  in  his 
expedition  to  Scotland  to  relieve  Stirling  Castle,  an 
incident  which  resulted  in  the  battle  of  Bannockburn. 
Poor  Baston,  however,  was  taken  prisoner  by  Robert 
the  Bruce,  who  forced  him  to  sing  in  rhymed  hexa- 
meters the  defeat  of  his  own  countrymen  as  the  price 
of  his  freedom. 

Chaucer  has  frequently  been  claimed  as  a  Court  poet  ; 
but  as  it  was  Latin  and  not  English  versification  that 
charmed  royal  ears  in  his  day,  the  claim  rests  on  a  some- 
what slender  foundation.  It  is  true  that  Edward  III 
granted  Chaucer  two  pensions  of  £13  6s.  8d.  each,  together 
with  a  daily  pitcher  of  wine,  which  was  commuted 
by  Richard  II  into  an  annual  payment  of  20  marks  ; 
but  there  is  nothing  to  show  that  the  royal  bounty 
was  a  mark  of  appreciation  of  his  poetical  worth.  The 
view  that  Chaucer  was  a  Court  poet  has  also  received 
some  countenance  from  the  fact  that  on  his  return  from 
Italy  he  styled  himself  "  Poet  Laureate."  The  title, 
however,  signified  nothing  more  than  a  wish  to  be 
thought  eminent  in  the  poetic  art — a  wish  all  the 
more  conceivable  if  it  is  assumed  that  Chaucer  really 
met  Petrarch,  who,  as  has  already  been  indicated,  set 

*    History  of  English  Poetry,  ii,  48. 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   9 

a  high  value  on  the  poetical  crown.  The  fact  is  the 
laurel  was  coveted  by  the  more  skilful  versifiers  of 
Chaucer's  time.  This  is  plainly  shown  by  Skelton,  who, 
writing  of  Chaucer,  Gower,  and  Lydgate,  winds  up  his 
description  with  the  line — 

They  wanted  nothing  but  the  lawrell. 
Gower  is  said  to  have  assumed  the  title  of  Poet  Laureate 
at  Chaucer's  death.     Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  worthy  of 
remark  that  the  poet's  monument  in  St.  Mary  Overy 
Church  is  crowned  with  ivy  mixed  with  roses. 

We  do  not,  however,  meet  with  the  title  of  Poet 
Laureate  in  print  till  the  reign  of  Edward  IV,  when 
John  Kaye  dedicated  his  Siege  of  Rhodes  to  the  King, 
styhng  himself  "  his  humble  poet  laureate."  This  work, 
which  consisted  of  a  prose  English  translation  of  a  Latin 
history,  has  a  double  interest,  for,  in  addition  to  its  being 
the  first  book  having  on  the  title  page  the  words  "  Poet 
Laureate,"  it  had  the  honour  of  being  printed  by  Caxton. 
The  full  title  was :  "  The  Dylectable  Newesse  and 
Tythnges  of  the  Gloryous  Victorye  of  the  Rhodyans 
agaynst  the  Turkes.  Translated  from  the  Latin  of 
G.  Caoursin  (Caorlinus)  by  John  Kaye  {Poete  Laureate) 
W.  Caxton,  Westminster  "  ;  while  the  dedication  ran  : 
"  To  the  most  excellente — most  redoubted,  and  most 
crj^sten  king ;  King  Edward  the  Fourth,  John  Kaye 
hys  humble  poet  laureate  and  most  lowley  servant  ; 
kneyling  unto  the  ground  sayth  salute."  Kaye  is  said 
to  have  been  invested  with  the  office  by  Edward  IV  on 
the  latter's  return  from  Italy,  but  of  this  there  is  no 
reliable  evidence  whatever.  His  claim  to  be  Poet 
Laureate  rests  solely  on  the  statement  in  the  Siege  of 
Rhodes. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  so  little  is  known  of  Kaye's 
history,  and  that  no  specimens  of  his  muse  have  come 
down  to  us,  for  there  is  one  circumstance  which  strongly 


10  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

favours  his  claim,  namely,  that  from  his  day  to  that  of 
Ben  Jonson,  who  received  the  first  grant  of  Letters 
Patent,  there  was  an  unbroken  succession  of  royal 
Laureates.  These  bards,  who  are  usually  designated 
"  Volunteer  Laureates,"  differed  in  several  important 
respects  both  from  the  university  Laureates  and  from 
the  royal  poets  of  a  later  date.  They  were  not 
decisively  and  formally  appointed  in  the  modem  sense, 
and  they  were  never  crowned.  Furthermore,  neither 
their  emoluments  nor  their  duties  appear  to  have  been 
clearly  defined.  Some  received  a  salary,  others  received 
only  sack,  but  probably  most  had  to  rest  content  with 
the  empty  honour.  Lastly,  nearly  all  the  Volunteer 
Laureates  extolled  the  virtues  of  their  royal  master  in 
Latin,  which  was  then  the  language  of  cultured  Europe. 
Warton  inclines  to  the  view  that  not  until  the  Reforma- 
tion was  it  customary  for  a  royal  Laureate  to  write 
in  English.^ 

And  this  is  fully  borne  out  by  the  literary  remains  of 
the  earher  of  the  Volunteer  Laureates.  Kaye's  suc- 
cessor, Andrew  Bernard,  as  poet  to  Henry  VII  and 
Henry  VIII,  wrote  all  his  courtly  effusions  in  the 
classical  tongue.  A  native  of  Toulouse  and  an 
Augustinian  monk,  "  Master  Bernard,  the  Blind  Poet," 
was  in  high  favour  at  the  English  Court,  where,  in 
addition  to  fulfilling  the  duties  of  Poet  Laureate,  ho 
was  Historiographer  Royal,  and  preceptor  in  grammar 
to  Prince  Arthur,  the  eldest  son  of  Henry  VII.  In  an 
instrument,  dated  November,  1486,  that  monarch 
granted  him  a  salary  of  10  marks,  until  such  time  as 
he  could  obtain  a  more  remunerative  office.  Bernard 
did  not  long  remain  a  royal  beneficiary,  for  soon  after 
he  was  enjoying  the  emoluments  of  several  ecclesiastical 
preferments,  and  at  the  same  time  holding  the  post  of 

'  Warton  :    History  of  English  Pottry,  iii,  129. 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   11 

Master  of  St.  Leonard's  Hospital,  Bedford.  His  royal 
poems  comprised  An  Address  to  Henry  VIII  for  the 
Most  Auspicious  Beginning  of  the  Tenth  Year  of  his 
Reign  ;  An  Epithalamium  on  the  Marriage  of  Francis, 
the  Dauphin  of  France,  with  the  King's  Daughter ;  and 
A  New  Year's  Gift  for  the  Year  1515. 

But  the  most  famous  of  all  the  royal  poets  prior  to 
Ben  Jonson  was  John  Skelton.  True,  no  official  docu- 
ment exists  showing  that  he  served  in  such  a  capacity  ; 
but  certain  episodes  in  his  career  as  well  as  his  writings 
point  conclusively  to  the  view  that  if  he  was  not 
formally  acknowledged  as  a  Poet  Laureate,  he  was  at 
all  events  sedulously  and  efficiently  performing  the 
duties  pertaining  to  the  office.  Skelton  described  him- 
self repeatedly  both  as  Poet  Laureate  and  Regius 
Orator,  which  testifies  to  his  being  a  university  Laureate 
as  well  as  a  poet  attached  to  the  Court. 

Skelton  is  a  very  considerable  figure  in  our  literary 
annals.  Erasmus,  in  dedicating  his  ode  De  Laudihus 
Britanniae  (1500)  to  Prince  Henry  (afterwards  Henry  VHI), 
refers  to  him  as  a  member  of  the  prince's  household,  and 
as  "  a  light  and  ornament  of  British  literature  "  ;  while 
Southey,  one  of  his  distant  successors  in  the  royal  office, 
said  that  "  the  power,  the  strangeness,  the  volubility  of 
his  language,  the  audacity  of  his  satire,  and  the  perfect 
originality  of  his  manner,  made  Skelton  one  of  the  most 
extraordinary  writers  of  any  age  or  country."  With- 
out endorsing  this  superlative  estimate,  it  may  be  con- 
ceded that  Skelton's  reputation  stands  deservedly  high. 
Possessing  some  of  the  scholarship  of  Erasmus  and 
much  of  the  caustic  but  gross  wit  of  Rabelais,  he  took 
an  especial  delight  in  scourging  the  vices,  indolence,  and 
superstition  of  the  clergy,  to  which  class  he  himself 
belonged.  That  his  writings  hastened  the  Reformation 
in  England  can  hardly  be  doubted. 


12  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Born  about  1460,  probably  in  Norfolk,  Skelton  came 

of  good  stock.     He  was  accounted  a  sound  classical  and 

French    scholar,    and,    before    he    was   thirty,    Caxton 

besought  him  to  correct  his  Boke  of  Eneydos  compyled 

by  Vyrgyle.     The  famous  printer  in  the  preface  to  that 

work  refers  to  Skelton  as  "  late  created  poet  laureate  in 

the  university  of  Oxford,"   a  distinction  of  which  the 

poet  was  very  proud. 

At    Oxford,    the    University 
Advanced  I  was  to  that  degree  ; 
By  whole  consent  of  their  Senate, 
I  was  made  Poet  Laureate. 

Skelton's  earliest  composition  for  the  Court  is  supposed 
to  have  been  an  English  poem  with  a  Latin  refrain  on 
the  death  of  Edward  IV.  In  1489,  when  Prince  Arthur, 
son  of  Henry  VII,  was  created  Prince  of  Wales,  the  poet 
celebrated  the  event  in  an  effusion  entitled  Prince 
Arturis  Creacyonn.  He  is  also  credited  with  a  Latin  poem 
congratulating  Prince  Henry  (afterwards  Henry  VIII) 
on  being  made  Duke  of  York.  Skelton  was  tutor  to  this 
prince,  and  wrote  for  his  benefit  Speculum  Principis, 
being  a  treatise  on  how  a  young  man  of  Henry's  rank 
should  comport  himself.  Sycophancy  was  not  in  the 
catalogue  of  Skelton's  vices.  On  more  than  one  occa- 
sion, notably  in  The  Boivge  of  Court,  he  satirised  in  terse 
and  vigorous  English  the  lax  manners  and  conventionali- 
ties of  the  Court,  a  circumstance  which  did  not  improve 
his  relations  with  Henry  VII.  But  the  king  was  fully 
convinced  that  Skelton  was  both  a  poet  and  a  scholar  ; 
and  when  his  anger  had  abated,  he  bestowed  on  him  a 
robe  of  white  and  green,  on  which  was  embroidered,  in 
letters  of  silk  and  gold,  the  word  "  Calliope."  ^ 

Why  were  ye,  CalUope, 
Embroider'd  with  letters  of  gold  ? 
Skelton  Laureate,   Orator  Regius, 

•   Works,  ed.  Dyce.  i.   197-8. 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   13 

Maketli  this  answer  : — 

Calliope, 

As  ye  may  see, 
Regent  is  she  of  poets  all. 

Which  gave  to  me 

The  high  degree 
Laureate  to  be  of  fame  royal. 

Wliose  name  enrolled 

With  silk  and  gold 
I  dare  be  bold  thus  for  to  wear. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VII  and 
the  more  briUiant  portion  of  his  son's,  Skelton's  pen 
was  constantly  at  the  service  of  his  patrons.  At  first 
he  was  on  good  terms  with  Cardinal  Wolsey ;  but  as  he 
developed  his  satirical  gift  and  used  it  unsparingly  in 
exposing  the  corruptions  of  the  Church,  his  friendship 
with  the  great  minister  of  Henry  VIII  speedily  came  to 
an  end.  In  a  poem  entitled  Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  ? 
Wolsey  is  thus  made  a  target  for  Skelton's  raillery — 

God  save  his  noble  grace. 

And  grant  him  a  place 

Endless  to  dwell 

With  the  devil  in  Hell  ! 

For  I  undertake 

He  would  so  brag  and  crack 

That  he  would  then  make 

The  devil  to  quake  ! 

Wolsey,  it  is  said,  took  his  revenge  by  throwing  the 
poet  into  prison. 

Skelton,  who  died  in  1529,  is  best  remembered  by 
The  Garlande  of  Laurell,  in  which  he  conjures  up  a  glowing 
vision  of  the  palace  of  Fame,  where  are  assembled 
before  Pallas  the  Poets  Laureate  and  learned  men  of  all 
nations.  Pope  wrote  of  this  bard  as  the  "  beastly 
Skelton,"  and  certainly  there  are  passages  in  his  writings 
which  do  not  belie  such  an  epithet ;  but  occasionally, 
as  in  the  poem  Merry  Margaret,  he  could  give  rein  to  a 
vivacious  and  refined  poetical  fancy. 


14  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Merry  Margaret,  as  midsummer  flower, 
Gentle  as  falcon,  or  hawk  of  the  tower ; 
With  solace  and  gladness, 
Much  mirth  and  no  madness, 
All  good  and  no  badness. 
So  joyously. 
So  maidenly, 
So  womanly, 
Her  demeanour  in  everything, 
Far,  far,  passing,  that  I  can  indite, 

Or  suffice  to  write. 
Of  merry  Margaret,   as  midsummer  flower. 
Gentle  as  falcon,  or  hawk  of  the  tower. 

In  the  early  years  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  the  duties  of 
Laureate  were  performed  by  Richard  Edwards  (1523  ?- 
66),  a  native  of  Somerset,  who,  after  studying  at  Oxford 
and  qualifying  as  a  barrister,  became  Master  of  the 
Children  of  the  Chapel  Royal.  Warton  says  he  was  the 
"  first  fiddle,  the  most  fashionable  sonneteer,  the  readiest 
rhymer,  and  the  most  facetious  mimic  of  the  Court."  ^ 
Nevertheless,  Edwards's  poetical  niche  is  an  extremely 
small  one.  His  drama  of  Palamon  and  Arcite,  which 
was  composed  for  Elizabeth's  entertainment  at  Oxford 
in  1566,  no  longer  exists.  What  popularity  he  had  was 
gained  almost  solely  through  a  collection  of  poems 
posthumously  published  in  1573  entitled,  The  Paradyse 
of  Dayntye  Devises,  and  containing  one  of  the  finest 
of  old  Enghsh  madrigals,  the  first  verse  of  which 
runs — 

In  going  to  my  naked  bed,  as  one  that  would  have  slept, 

I  heard  a  wife  sing  to  her  childe,  that  long  before  had  wept. 

She  sighed  sore,  and  sung  full  sweet,  to  bring  the  babe  to  rest. 

That  would  not  cease,  but  cried  still,  in  sucking  at  her  brest. 

She  was  full  wearie  of  her  watch,  and  grieved  with  her  childe  ; 

She  rocked  it,  and  rated  it,  till  that  on  her  it  smilde  ; 

Then  did  she  say  :  "  Now  have  I  found  this  proverb  true  to 

prove, 
The  falling  out  of  faithfuU  freendes  renewing  is  of  love." 

'  Warton  :    History  of  English  Po$try,  iv,  214. 


COURT  POETS   BEFORE   BEN  JONSON      15 

Turberville  wrote  an  elegy  on  Edwards,  which  ends — 

Oh  ruth  !   he  is  bereft,  that,  whilst  he  lived  here, 
For  poet's  penne  and  passinge  wit 
Could  have  no  English  peere. 

Probably  relying  on  a  dubious  reference  in  Nash's 
Pierce  Pennilesse  his  Supplication  to  the  Devill  (1592),  in 
which  the  contemners  of  poetry  are  savagely  assailed, 
some  writers  have  placed  Edmund  Spenser  among  the 
Poets  Laureate.  It  is  well  known  that  he  received  a 
grant  from  the  royal  purse  of  £50  a  year,  much  to  the 
chagrin  of  the  Lord  Treasurer,  Lord  Burghley,  who, 
when  he  heard  of  EHzabeth's  intention,  is  reported  to 
have  exclaimed  :  "  What  !  all  this  for  a  rhyme  ?  " 
"  Then  give  him  what  is  reason,"  testily  replied  the 
Queen.  Burghley,  however,  continued  to  keep  a  tight 
hold  of  the  strings  of  the  royal  purse,  and  the  impe- 
cunious poet,  having  waited  a  considerable  time  for  his 
pension,  ventured  to  address  the  following  epigram  to 
the  Queen — 

I  was  promised  on  a  time 
To  have  reason  for  my  rhyme  ; 
But  from  that  time  until  this  season, 
I  have  had  nor  rhyme  nor  reason. 

The  epigram  was  effectual,  and  the  allowance  was  duly 
received.  But,  though  Spenser  was  in  receipt  of  a 
grant  from  the  Crown,  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
pension  carried  with  it  the  title  of  Poet  Laureate.  The 
author  of  the  Faerie  Queene  himself  never  made  any 
such  claim  ;  and,  if  one  is  to  judge  by  certain  lines  in 
his  satirical  Prosopopoia,  better  known  as  Mother 
Hubberd's  Tale,  he  was  far  from  being  enamoured  of 
the  English  Court. 

So  pitiful  a  thing  is  suitor's  state  ! 
Full  little  knowest  thou  that  hast  not  tried 
What  hell  it  is  in  suing  long  to  bide  : 
To  lose  good  days  that  might  be  better  spent. 
To  waste  long  nights  in  pensive  discontent  : 


16  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

To  speed  to-day,  to  be  put  back  to-morrow  ; 
To  feed  on  hope,  to  pine  with  fear  and  sorrow  ; 
To  have  thy  prince's  grace,  yet  want  her  peers  ; 
To  have  thy  asking,  yet  wait  many  years  ; 
To  fret  thy  soul  with  crosses  and  with  cares  ; 
To  eat  thy  heart  through  comfortless  despairs  ; 
To  fawn,  to  crouch,  to  wait,  to  ride,  to  run, 
To  spend,  to  give,  to  want,  to  be  undone. 

But  Spenser  bids  us  remember,  as  well  he  might,  that 
the  satire  was  written  "  in  the  raw  conceit  of  my  youth." 
Undoubtedly,  he  owed  much  to  royal  favour.  From  the 
day  when,  with  Raleigh,  he  laid  his  songs  before  Elizabeth, 
he  was  persona  grata  at  Court.  And  in  token  of  his 
gratitude,  Spenser  raised  up  an  enduring  literary  monu- 
ment to  his  royal  mistress  by  dedicating  his  Faerie 
Queene  to  "  the  most  high,  mighty,  and  magnificent 
Empress." 

Samuel  Daniel  (1562-1619)  is  usually  regarded  as  the 
last  of  the  "  Volunteer  Laureates."  If  tradition  speaks 
truly,  he  became  the  royal  poet  on  the  death  of  Spenser 
in  1599.  But  whether  this  be  so  or  not,  it  is  a  fact  that 
he  was  Gentleman-Extraordinary  and  one  of  the  Grooms 
of  the  Privy  Chamber  ;  and  that  from  the  outset  of 
James  I's  reign  until  the  year  1616,  when  His  Majesty 
settled  a  pension  on  his  rival,  Ben  Jonson,  his  poetical 
ascendancy  at  Court  was  unquestioned.  Jonson  told 
Drummond  of  Hawthomden  that  Daniel  was  "  a  good 
honest  man  .  .  .  but  no  poet."  But  over  against  this 
not  wholly  disinterested  judgment  may  be  placed  the 
opinion  of  other  contemporaries,  and  that  of  modem 
critics  like  Coleridge,  Lamb,  and  Hazlitt,  all  of  whom 
assign  Daniel  a  considerable  place  in  English  literature. 
Spenser,  in  Colin  Clout's  Come  Home  Againe,  alludes  to 
him  as 

a  new  shepheard  late  up  sprong. 
The  which  doth  all  afore  liim  far  surpaase  ; 
Appearing  well  in  that  well  tuned  song. 
Which  laie  he  sung  unto  a  scornfuU  lasse. 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   17 

Nash  was  rapturous  over  Daniel's  narrative  poem,  The 
Complaynt  of  Rosamond.  Drummond  of  Hawthomden, 
disdaining  Jonson's  judgment,  thought  him  "  for  sweet- 
ness of  ryming  second  to  none  "  ;  while  Drayton,  in  his 
Epistle  of  Poets  and  Poesie,  says  that  some  wise  men  call 
Daniel  "  too  much  Historian  in  verse,"  and  adds  for 
himself  that  "his  manner  better  fitted  prose."  Coleridge, 
again,  refers  to  "  the  admirable  Daniel,"  though  he  admits 
that  his  style  occupies  "  the  neutral  ground  of  prose  and 
verse,"  and  incorporates  characteristics  "  common  to 
both."i 

The  son  of  a  music-master,  Daniel  was  bom  near 
Taunton  in  1562.  After  studying  at  Magdalen  Hall, 
Oxford,  he  became  tutor  to  a  son  of  the  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, and  to  a  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Cumberland. 
These  positions,  and  his  growing  reputation  as  a  poet, 
made  him  known  to  the  cultured  nobility,  and  soon  he 
found  favour  at  the  Court.  When  James  I  arrived  in 
England,  Daniel  sent  him  A  Panegyricke  Congratulatorie. 
He  also  dedicated  a  sonnet  to  "  Her  Sacred  Majestie," 
Queen  Anne,  who,  in  1607,  appointed  him  one  of  the 
Grooms  of  the  Privy  Chamber  at  a  salary  of  £60  per 
annum.  From  the  beginning  of  James'  reign,  Daniel 
had  no  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  royal  patronage. 
Masques  were  coming  into  fashion,  and,  as  he  himself 
confesses,  he  was  kept  constantly  employed  in  writing 
these  for  the  entertainment  of  the  royal  household. 
In  1603-04  The  Vision  of  the  Twelve  Goddesses  was  per- 
formed at  Hampton  Court  by  "  the  Queen's  most  excel- 
lent majesty  and  her  ladies."  Daniel  again  came  con- 
spicuously to  the  front  in  1610,  when  he  devised  an 
entertainment  to  celebrate  Prince  Henry's  creation  as  a 
knight  of  the  Bath.  The  piece,  which  was  entitled 
Tethys  Festival,  or  the  Queenes  Wake,  was  performed  at 

•   Biographia  Literarta,  ii,  82. 
2— («34l) 


18  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Whitehall,  the  leading  ladies  of  the  Court  taking  part. 
These  masques,  however,  appear  to  have  been  eclipsed 
in  splendour  by  Hymens  Triumph  :  A  pastorall  Tragi- 
comcBdie,  which  was  presented  at  Somerset  House  in 
1615  on  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  Lord  Roxburgh. 
"  The  entertainment,"  wrote  John  Chamberlain  to  Sir 
Dudley  Carleton,  "  was  great,  and  cost  the  Queen,  they 
say,  above  £3,000  ;  the  pastoral  by  Samuel  Daniel  was 
solemn  and  dull,  but  perhaps  better  to  be  read  than 
represented." 

This  criticism  fairly  represents  the  weak  points  of 
Daniel  as  a  writer  of  masques.  It  was  a  composition 
little  adapted  to  his  talents,  and  his  reputation 
ultimately  suffered  heavily  at  the  hands  of  his 
brilliant  rival,  Jonson,  who,  in  1616,  virtually  super- 
seded him  as  purveyor  of  Court  entertainments. 
Daniel,  marking  his  waning  popularity,  quitted  the 
Court  in  disgust,  and  tried  to  assuage  his  grief  bj- 
vigorous  toil  on  a  farm  in  Somersetshire,  where  he 
died  in  1619.  Jonson  was  Daniel's  rival,  but  there 
is  no  reason  to  impugn  the  sincerity  of  his  statement 
to  the  Countess  of  Rutland  that  "  he  bore  no  ill-will 
on  his  part." 

Daniel  lives  in  literary  history  not  by  his  masques,  or 
tragedies,  or  poetical  histories,  but  by  his  sonnets, 
several  of  which  have  been  given  a  foremost  place. 
In  his  own  lifetime  their  popularity  was  great,  as  is 
sufficiently  attested  by  the  fact  that  twenty-seven  of 
them  were  printed  without  his  knowledge  at  the  end 
of  the  1591  edition  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Astrophel  and 
Stella.  Daniel,  who  had  intended  that  his  sonnets 
should  be  "  consecrated  to  silence,"  was,  of  course, 
indignant  ;  and  to  prevent  further  surreptitious  publica- 
tion, he  himself  issued,  in  1592,  a  little  volume,  entitled 
Delia,  Contayning  certaine  (50)  sonnets.     Here  is  one  of 


COURT  POETS  BEFORE  BEN  JONSON   19 

the  Delia  series,  which  admirably  exhibits  Daniel's  gifts 
as  a  sonneteer — 

I  must  not  grieve  my  love,  whose  eies  would  rede 

Lines  of  delight,  whereon  her  youth  might  smile  ; 
Flowers  have  time  before  they  come  to  seede, 

And  she  is  yong,  and  now  must  sport  the  while. 
And  sport,  sweet  Maide,  in  season  of  these  yeares. 

And  learne  to  gather  flowers  before  they  wither  ; 
And  where  the  sweetest  blossomes  first  appeares, 

Let  love  and  youth  conduct  thy  pleasures  thither. 
Lighten  foorth  smiles  to  cleere  the  clouded  aire, 

And  calme  the  tempest  which  my  sighs  doo  raise  : 
Pitty  and  smiles  doe  best  become  the  fair  ; 

Pitty  and  smiles  must  onely  yeeld  thee  praise. 
Make  me  to  say,  when  all  my  griefes  are  gone. 
Happy  the  heart  that  sighed  for  such  a  one. 


CHAPTER   II 

BEN    JONSON 

On  1st  February,  1616,  James  I  conferred  on  Ben 
Jonson,  by  Letters  Patent,  a  pension  of  100  marks 
(equal  to  about  £67)  per  annum,  in  recognition  of  his 
literary  services  to  the  Court.  This  event  marks  an  era 
in  the  history  of  the  Laureateship,  for,  although  there 
is  no  documentary  evidence  to  show  that  James  formally 
appointed  Jonson  to  the  ofhce  of  Poet  Laureate,  it  is 
indisputable  that  by  granting  a  pension  to  so  eminent 
a  poet  he  was  virtually  creating  the  position  in  its  main 
essentials.  Hitherto,  as  has  been  shown,  the  Laureate- 
ship  had  signified  little  more  than  an  empty  title  capri- 
ciously adopted  by  those  poets  whose  services  were 
enlisted  by  the  Court,  but  carrying  with  it  few  privileges 
and  no  definite  emoluments.  The  payment,  however, 
of  an  annual  and  determinate  sum  to  Jonson  effected  a 
radical  change  in  the  position  of  the  Court  poet.  From 
Jonson's  day  to'  ours  there  has  been  an  almost  unbroken 
succession  of  officially  appointed  and  salaried  Poets 
Laureate.  The  distinction  of  being  the  first  Poet 
Laureate  in  the  modem  sense  belongs  undeniably  to 
Jonson. 

And  surely  the  office  of  royal  poet,  now  hallowed  by 
the  memories  of  nearly  300  years,  could  not  have  been 
more  auspiciously  inaugurated  than  by  Jonson,  whose 
genius  is  one  of  the  glories  of  English  literature.  By 
the  lustre  of  his  name  and  the  brilliance  of  his  poetical 
achievement,  he  ranks  not  only  first  chronologically  of 
the  sixteen  Poets  Laureate,  but,  according  to  some 
critics,  first  in  literary  importance  as  well.  At  all 
events,  of  his  fifteen  successors,  only  Dryden,  Words- 
worth,  and   Tennyson   can   be   mentioned   in   the   same 

20 


BEN   JONSON 

From  an  engraving  by  H.  Robinson,  after  tlie  portrait  by 
Gerard  Honthorst 


BEN   JONSON  21 

breath  with  him.  As  for  the  rest,  the  most  charitable 
thing  one  can  say  is  that  they  seldom  rose  above 
respectable  mediocrity  ;  and,  frequently,  notably  in  the 
case  of  Eusden,  Whitehead,  and  Pye — "  three  unutter- 
able names  " — sank  far  below  it.  Reluctantly,  it  must 
be  confessed  that  the  literary  associations  of  the 
Laureateship  as  a  whole,  are  not  a  theme  for  elation. 
Venerable  the  office  may  be,  but,  alas  !  it  conjures  up 
for  the  most  part,  visions  not  of  poets,  but  of  impecunious 
poetasters.  The  period  betwixt  Dryden  and  Southey 
constitutes  a  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  Laureateship 
which  one  would  fain  blot  out.  But,  however  con- 
temptible the  Georgian  laureates  were,  it  is  consoling  to 
remember  that  the  long  succession  of  Poets  Laureate 
began  with  so  illustrious  a  name  as  that  of  "  Rare  Ben 
Jonson." 

As  Court  poet,  Jonson  served  a  long  and  arduous 
apprenticeship.  It  began  in  the  spacious  days  of  Eliza- 
beth, and  was  not  completed  until  James  I  had  sat 
thirteen  years  on  the  British  throne.  When,  in  1598, 
he  produced  the  revised  version  of  his  comedy,  Every 
Man  in  his  Humour,  at  the  Globe  Theatre,  Elizabeth 
was  impressed  by  its  originality,  and  swelled  the  general 
chorus  of  praise  which  greeted  the  uprising  of  a  new 
master  of  English  comedy.  Henceforth,  Jonson  was 
"  a  man  of  mark  and  likelihood."  Following  up  his 
notable  success,  the  dramatist  brought  out,  in  1599, 
Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour.  Elizabeth  was  again  an 
enthusiastic  admirer  ;  and  Jonson,  as  a  token  of  grati- 
tude to  his  Sovereign  for  having  honoured  the  perform- 
ance by  her  presence,  subsequently  inserted  at  the  end 
of  the  play  some  adulatory  lines,  entitled.  Epilogue  at  the 
Presentation  before  Queen  Elizabeth.  This  compliment 
was  not  lost  on  so  vain  a  queen,  and  during  the  closing 
years  of  her  reign  Jonson  could  always  count  on  her 


22  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

patronage.  Lord  Falkland,  in  some  lines  he  wrote, 
endeavoured  to  record  how  "  great  Eliza  " 

With  her  judicious  favours,  did  infuse 
Courage  and  strength  into  his  younger  muse. 

Bearing  in  mind  that  Elizabeth's  parsimony  was  great, 
it  may  safely  be  concluded  that  the  "  judicious  favours  " 
to  which  Falkland  alludes,  were  not  of  a  monetary  kind. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  no  small  gain  that,  in  days  of  fierce 
and  formidable  rivalry,  Jonson  should  have  obtained  so 
considerable  a  portion  of  the  royal  goodwill.  At 
Elizabeth's  death  he  was  called  upon  to  panegyrize  her 
character  and  reign,  a  task  much  to  his  taste. 

Notwithstanding  the  success  of  his  comedies  and 
Elizabeth's  patronage,  Jonson  had  still  to  complain  of 
financial  stress.  He  was  no  doubt  on  the  high  road  to 
fame  and  fortune.  Life  for  him  had  already  begun  to 
take  on  a  golden  hue,  but  as  yet  he  had  not  learned  the 
art — doubly  difficult  in  the  case  of  a  man  of  his  character 
and  temperament — of  harbouring  his  resources.  With 
the  accession  of  James  I,  however,  his  circumstances 
rapidly  changed  for  the  better.  That  monarch  and  his 
queen  were  passionately  fond  of  pageantry,  and  revelled 
in  masques.  In  the  writing  of  this  peculiar  form  ot 
Court  entertainment,  which  has  been  felicitously  likened 
to  the  initial  scenes  of  the  modern  pantomime,  Jonson 
was  unrivalled.  It  has  been  said  that  the  masque  both 
came  and  went  with  him.  The  assertion  is  not  incon- 
testable, but  it  is  true  that  the  history  of  the  masque  is 
mainly  the  record  of  his  contributions.  ^  Jonson  invested 
a  crude  and  artificial  form  of  entertainment  with  genuine 
poetic  power,  and  brought  it  to  a  greater  pitch  of  success 
than  any  other  writer.  His  originality,  learning,  and 
clear  apprehension  of  spectacular  possibilities  won  the 

'    Cambridge    History  of   English   Literature,  vi,    12. 


BEN   JONSON  23 

unstinted  admiration  of  James,  and  he  became,  in 
Fleay's  words,  "  chief  masque  and  entertainment  pro- 
vider to  the  Court."  And  what  this  meant  may  be 
judged  by  the  fact  that  between  the  years  1605  and 
1630,  no  fewer  than  thirty-six  masques  and  kindred 
entertainments  came  from  Jonson's  pen. 

From  the  very  outset  of  his  reign,  James  was  drawn 
to  the  young  dramatist,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a 
slight  estrangement  caused  by  some  disparaging  refer- 
ences to  the  Scottish  nation  in  the  comedy  of  Eastward 
Ho  !  written  conjointly  by  Jonson,  Chapman,  and 
Marston,  their  relationship  throughout  was  most  cordial. 
Jonson  responded  with  alacrity  to  the  kindly  feeling 
displayed  by  his  Sovereign,  though  he  did  so  not  wisely 
but  too  well.  The  coming  of  James  was  signalised  by 
a  panegyric,  the  "  gross  adulation  "  of  which,  Dr.  Hurd 
severely  but  justly  reprehended. 

Who  would  not  be  thy  subject,  James,  t'  obey 
A  prince  that  rules  by  example,  more  than  sway  ? 
Wliose  manners  draw,  more  than  thy  powers  constrain. 
And  in  this  short  time  of  thy  happiest  reign, 
Hast  purg'd  thy  realms,  as  we  have  now  no  cause 
Left  us  of  fear,  but  first  our  crimes,  then  laws. 
Like  aids  'gainst  treasons  who  hath  found  before, 
And  than  in  them,  how  could  we  know  God  more  ? 
First  thou  preserved  wert  our  king  to  be  ; 
And  since,  the  whole  land  was  preserv'd  for  thee. 

The  above  epigram,  according  to  Gifford,  ^  was  probably 
written  in  1604,  as  the  last  allusion  is  to  the  plague, 
which  broke  out  in  London  soon  after  the  death  of 
Elizabeth.  In  the  same  year,  Jonson  was  called  upon 
to  celebrate  the  King's  triumphal  progress  through  his 
capital,  and  his  "  happie  entrance  "  at  the  opening  of 
the  session  of  his  first  Parliament. 

On  Twelfth  Night,  1605,  Jonson's  The  Masque  of 
Blackness,   with  the  scenery  by   Inigo   Jones,   had  the 

^  Jonson's  Works,  ed.  Gifford,  viii,  162,  note. 


24  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

honour  of  "  being  personated  by  the  most  magnificent 
of  Queens,  Anne  of  Great  Britain,  with  her  honourable 
Ladyes  "  at  Whitehall.  The  masque,  which  was  the 
first  of  a  long  series,  was  a  brilliant  success,  and  marked 
the  beginning  of  the  resplendent  period  of  Jonson's 
career.  Indeed,  between  the  years  1605  and  1620,  his 
reputation  stood  so  high,  that  there  were  few  public 
ceremonials  in  which  he  was  not  called  upon  to  play  a 
poetical  part. 

In  1616,  James,  as  we  have  already  seen,  set  the  seal 
of  his  approval  on  Jonson's  labours  in  a  practical  way, 
i.e.,  by  conferring  on  him  a  pension  of  100  marks.  To 
quote  Falkland's  lines,  he 

Declared  great  Jonson  worthiest  to  receive 
The  garland  which  the  Muses'  hands  did  weave  : 
And  though  his  bounty  did  sustain  his  days. 
Gave  a  more  welcome  pension  in  his  praise. 

Jonson  had,  in  fact,  attained  to  the  dignity  of  Poet 
Laureate  ;  and,  wishing  to  be  instructed  in  the  history 
of  an  ancient  title,  he  applied  to  his  friend,  the  erudite 
Selden,  who,  in  response,  wrote  the  forty-third  chapter 
of  his  Titles  of  Honour,  which  treats  of  "  the  custom  of 
giving  crowns  of  laurel  to  poets."  Selden  concludes  : 
"  Thus  have  I,  by  no  unseasonable  digression,  performed 
a  promise  to  you,  my  beloved  Ben  Jonson.  Your 
curious  learning  and  judgment  may  correct  where  I 
have  erred,  and  adde  where  my  notes  and  memory  have 
left  me  short." 

Besides  granting  Jonson  a  pension,  James  further 
increased  the  gratitude  of  his  favourite  poet  by  pro- 
mising him  the  office  of  Master  of  the  Revels,  a  position 
which  Malone  asserts,  ^  and  Gifford  confirms,  Jonson 
tried  to  secure  when  Elizabeth  was  alive.  The  promise 
took  concrete  form  in  1621,  when  the  King,  by  Letters 

^  Shakespeare  i,  626. 


BEN  JONSON  25 

Patent,  granted  "  our  beloved  servant,  Benjamin  Jonson, 
gentleman,  the  said  office,  to  be  held  and  enjoyed  by  him 
and  his  assigns  during  his  life,  from  and  after  the  death 
of  Sir  George  Bug,  and  Sir  John  Astley,  or  as  soon  as 
the  office  should  become  vacant  by  resignation,  for- 
feiture, or  surrender."  But  Jonson  derived  no  benefit 
from  the  reversionary  grant,  for  Sir  John  Astley  sur- 
vived him.  James  was  also  desirous  of  conferring  a 
knighthood  on  his  masque-writer,  probably,  as  has  been 
suggested,  in  anticipation  of  his  installation  as  Master 
of  the  Revels  ;  but  Jonson,  not  being  enamoured  of 
titles,  and  doubting  his  financial  ability  to  maintain  a 
knighthood,  declined  the  honour. 

James,  with  all  his  defects,  thoroughly  appreciated  his 
Poet  Laureate,  and  sincerely  wished  to  promote  his 
interests.  Jonson,  no  doubt,  was  fortunate  in  possess- 
ing literary  aptitude  which  accorded  not  only  with  the 
personal  tastes  of  the  monarch,  but  with  the  dominant 
tendencies  of  the  age.  But  this  of  itself  would  hardly 
account  for  the  friendship  which  existed  between  the 
two  men.  One  cannot  help  thinking  that  it  was  the 
charm  of  Jonson's  personality,  quite  as  much  as  his 
facility  and  skill  in  producing  masques,  that  led  captive 
the  fickle  heart  of  James.  And  Jonson,  on  his  part,  did 
nothing  to  break  the  spell.  He  knew  that  James  was 
vain  past  all  believing,  and  the  tongue  of  flattery  never 
ceased. 

With  the  accession  of  Charles  I,  the  noontide  of 
Jonson's  prosperity  was  past.  He  had  already  given  of 
the  best  of  his  genius  ;  and  much  strife,  sore  disappoint- 
ment, and  pecuniary  embarrassment  was  what  the 
future  had  in  store  for  him.  Charles's  literary  percep- 
tion was  probably  as  keen  as  his  father's,  but  he  cared 
little  for  erudite  pageantry,  and,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
thought  Court  poets  a  doubtful  blessing.     Moreover,  he 


26  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

was  proud,  reserved,  and  unstable  in  all  his  ways.  He 
had,  too,  the  reputation  of  being  mean,  though  his  Poet 
Laureate  had  no  reason  to  complain  on  that  score. 
Still,  Jonson  could  not  conceal  from  himself  the  fact 
that  his  position  under  Charles  was  precarious,  and, 
early  in  the  new  reign,  he  prudently  resumed  writing 
for  the  stage,  a  task,  however,  that  went  sorely  against 
the  grain. 

But  what  embittered  Jonson's  life  at  this  time  more 
than  anything  else  was  his  quarrel  with  Inigo  Jones, 
whose  influence  at  Court  was  now  even  greater  than  his 
own,  and  was  eventually  to  lead  to  the  temporary  stop- 
page of  his  pension.  Jones  had  collaborated  with 
Jonson  in  the  production  of  several  Court  masques,  the 
former  being  responsible  for  the  scenery,  decorations, 
and  costumes,  which,  in  the  reign  of  Charles,  were 
regarded  as  even  more  important  than  the  songs  and 
verses  supplied  by  the  Poet  Laureate.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  a  dispute  arose  as  to  whether  Jonson's  or  Jones's 
name  should  appear  first  on  the  title-page  of  a  masque. 

That  two  great  men  should  have  so  demeaned  them- 
selves as  to  angrily  squabble  over  a  question  of  pre- 
cedence is  a  striking  commentary  on  the  waywardness 
of  human  nature.  And,  sad  to  relate,  Jonson  was 
the  worst.  With  a  reckless  disregard  of  his  own 
dignity  and  worth,  he  set  about  satirising  the  great 
architect — 

Sir  Inigo  doth  fear  it,  as  I  hear, 
And  labours  to  seem  worthy  of  this  fear, 
That  1  should  write  upon  him  some  sharp  verse. 
Able  to  eat  into  his  bones,  and  pierce 
The  marrow.     Wretch  !    I  quit  thee  of  thy  pain, 
Thou'rt  too  ambitious,  and  dost  fear  in  vain  : 
The  Libyan  lion  hunts  no  butterflies  ; 
He  makes  the  camel  and  dull  ass  his  prize. 
If  thou  be  so  desirous  to  be  read, 
Seek  out  some  hungry  painter,  that,  for  bread. 


BEN   JONSON  27 

With  rotten  chalk  or  coal,  upon  the  wall 
Will  well  design  thee  to  be  view'd  of  all 
That  sit  upon  the  common  draught  or  strand  ; 
Thy  forehead  is  too  narrow  for  my  brand. 

Such  a  scurrilous  attack  was  inexcusable  ;  but  Jonson, 
unabashed,  followed  it  up  with  a  tornado  of  abuse, 
culminating  in  the  onslaught  in  the  original  version  of  the 
comedy  The  Tale  of  a  Tub  (1633),  where  Jones  is  per- 
sonated in  the  character  of  Vitruvius  Hoop.  Gifford 
tries  hard  to  defend  Jonson's  conduct  ;  but  when  every 
allowance  has  been  made  for  Jones's  forgetfulness  of  old 
attachments,  his  unsympathetic  nature,  and  his  inability 
to  appreciate  literary  wares,  it  is  impossible  to  condone 
the  Poet  Laureate's  conduct.  Jonson  himself  ultimately 
saw  the  error  of  his  ways  and  sought  to  make  amends, 
but  Jones  was  implacable  and  wished  his  downfall. 
Mainly  through  the  architect's  influence,  Jonson  lost 
Court  favour,  and  the  writing  of  the  masques  was  for  a 
time  entrusted  to  other  hands. 

This  sudden  stroke  of  misfortune  was  rendered  more 
calamitous  by  the  temporary  loss  of  a  pension  of 
100  nobles  as  poet  to  the  City  of  London.  Accordingly, 
Jonson  was  compelled  to  redouble  his  efforts  as  a  writer 
for  the  stage.  In  1629-30  he  produced  the  comedy  of 
the  New  Inn,  which,  although  it  was  driven  from  the 
stage  as  being  too  erudite  and  too  moral,  contained  an 
allusion  that  touched  a  tender  chord  in  Charles's  heart, 
and  caused  him  instantly  to  send  his  sick  and  indigent 
Poet  Laureate  £100,  which  Jonson  thus  effusively 
acknowledged — 

Great  Charles,  among  the  holy  gifts  of  grace, 

Annexed  to  thy  person  and  thy  place, 

'Tis  not  enough  (thy  piety  is  such) 

To  cure  the  call'd  king's-evil  with  thy  touch  ; 

But  thou  wilt  yet  a  kinglier  mastery  try. 

To  cure  the  poet's-evil,  poverty. 


28  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Jonson  now  thought  that  the  tide  of  fortune  was 
again  turning  in  his  favour  and,  greatly  daring,  he 
addressed  a  "  humble  petition "  to  "  the  best  of 
monarchs,"  praying  that  the  royal  pension  should  be 
increased  from  100  marks  to  £100.  There  is  a  geniality 
and  sprightliness  about  this  little  poem  which  shows 
that,  despite  much  tribulation,  His  Majesty's  poet  had 
not  offered  himself  on  the  altar  of  despair. 

The  Humble  Petition  of  Poor  Ben  ; 
To  the  Best  of  Monarchs,  Masters,  Men, 
King  Charles 
— Doth  most  humbly  show  it. 
To  your  Majesty,  your  poet : 

That  whereas  your  royal  father, 
James  the  blessed,  pleas'd  the  rather. 
Of  his  special  grace  to  letters, 
To  make  all  the  Muses  debtors 
To  his  bounty ;  by  extension 
Of  a  free  poetic  pension, 
A  large  hundred  marks  annuity, 
To  be  given  me  in  gratuity 
For  done  service,  and  to  come  : 

And  that  this  so  accepted  sum, 
Or  dispens'd  in  books  or  bread 
(For  with  both  the  Muse  was  fed) 
Hath  drawn  on  me  from  the  times. 
All  the  envy  of  the  rhymes, 
And  the  rattling  pit-pat  noise 
Of  the  less  poetic  boys. 
When  their  popguns  aim  to  hit, 
With  their  pellets  of  small  wit, 
Parts  of  me  they  judg'd  decay 'd  ; 
But  we  last  out  still  unlay 'd. 

Please  your  Majesty  to  make 
Of  your  grace,  for  goodness  sake. 
Those  your  father's  marks,  your  pounds  ; 
Let  their  spite,  which  now  abounds. 
Then  go  on,  and  do  its  worst ; 
This  would   all  their  en\'y  burst  ; 
And  so  warm  the  poet's  tongue. 
You'd  read  a  snake  in  his  next  song. 


BEN  JONSON  29 

It  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed  that  Charles,  whose  sense 
of  humour  was  never  very  great,  would  be  moved  by 
the  drollery  of  "  the  humble  petition  of  poor  Ben." 
Nevertheless,  there  must  have  been  something  about  the 
appeal  which  awakened  his  sympathy,  for,  to  his  credit 
be  it  said,  he  not  only  granted  Jonson's  request,  but 
generously  stipulated  that  in  future  a  tierce  of  canary 
(the  poet's  favourite  wine)  should  accompany  the  pen- 
sion, a  perquisite  which,  as  we  shall  see,  was  continued 
to  his  successors  until  the  time  of  Pye,  when  it  was 
commuted  for  £27.  The  warrant  by  which  Charles 
increased  the  pension  is  historically  of  great  interest. 
It  is  dated  March,  1630,  and  directs  that — 

In  consideration  of  the  good  and  acceptable  service,  done  unto 
us  and  our  said  father  by  the  said  Benjamin  Johnson,  and  espe- 
cially to  encourage  him  to  proceede  in  those  services  of  his  witt 
and  penn,  which  wee  have  enjoined  unto  him,  and  which  wee 
expect  from  him,  are  graciously  pleased  to  augment  and  increase 
the  said  annuitie  or  pension  of  one  hundred  marks,  unto  an 
annuitie  of  one  hundred  pounds  of  lawful  money  of  England 
for  his  life  .  .  .  And  further  know  yee,  that  wee  of  our  more 
especial  grace,  certen  knowledge,  and  meer  motion,  have  given 
and  granted  .  .  .  the  said  Benjamin  Johnson,  and  his  assigns, 
one  terse  of  Canary  Spanish  wine  yearly  .  .  .  out  of  our  stores 
of  wines  yearly,  and  from  time  to  time  remayinge  at  or  in  our 
cellers  within  or  belonging  to  our  palace  of  Whitehall. 

Unfortunately,  the  Treasury  officials  of  Charles's  day 
were  tardy  in  payment,  and  the  Poet  Laureate's  sack 
and  pension  were  frequently  long  overdue.  Jonson, 
who  could  not  afford  to  allow  his  pension  to  be  in 
arrears  for  even  a  single  day,  on  one  occasion  lost  all 
patience,  and  dashed  off  a  lampoon  which  was  hardly 
calculated  to  secure  the  end  he  had  in  view. 

What  can  the  cause  be,  when  the  king  hath  given 
His  poet  sack,  the  Household  will  not  pay  ? 

Are  they  so  scanted  in  their  store  ?    or  driven 
For  want  of  knowing  the  poet,  to  say  him  nay  ? 


30  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

\^'ell,  they  should  know  him  would  the  king  but  grant 

His  poet  leave  to  sing  his  Household  true  ; 
He'd  frame  such  ditties  of  their  store  and  want, 

Would  make  the  very  Greencloth  to  look  blue  : 
And  rather  wish  in  their  expense  of  sack, 

So  the  allowance  from  the  king  to  use, 
As  the  old  bard  should  no  canary  lack  ; 

'Twere  better  spare  a  butt,  than  spill  his  muse. 
For  in  the  genius  of  a  poet's  verse. 
The  king's  fame  lives.    Go  now,  deny  his  tierce  ! 

This  invective  was  deeply  resented,  and  neither  pension 
nor  sack  were  forthcoming  until  Jonson  had  written 
another  poem  in  a  more  respectful  strain. 

Little  remains  to  be  said  of  Jonson  as  Poet  Laureate. 
Towards  the  close  of  his  life  he  appears  to  have  been 
fully  reinstated  at  Court,  and  to  have  been  frequently 
employed  by  Charles.  As  late  as  1633  a  play  entitled 
Love's  Welcome  was  performed  before  the  King,  and 
was  well  received.  But,  for  the  most  part,  Jonson  now 
confined  himself  to  duties  which  for  two  hundred  years 
were  inseparably  associated  with  the  Laureateship. 
Down  to  the  year  1635  it  was  his  custom  to  write  two 
odes  annually — one  for  New  Year's  Day  and  the  other 
in  honour  of  Charles's  birthday.  These  effusions,  how- 
ever, did  not  enhance  Jonson's  reputation,  usually  par- 
taking of  the  nature  of  fulsome  panegyrics  addressed 
"  to  the  great  and  good  King  Charles,  by  His  Majesty's 
most  humble  and  thankful  servant,  Ben  Jonson."  The 
birthday  ode  for  the  year  1629  may  be  taken  as  a 
typical  example — 

How  happy  were  the  subject  if  he  knew, 

Most  pious  king,  but  his  own  good  in  you  ! 

How  many  times.   Live  long,  Charles  !    would  he  say. 

If  he  but  weigh'd  the  blessings  of  this  day. 

And  as  it  turns  our  joyful  year  about. 

For  safety  of  such  majesty  cry  out  ? 

Indeed,   when  had   Great  Britain   greater  cause 

Than  now,  to  love  the  sovereign  and  the  laws  ; 


BEN   JONSON  31 

When  you  that  reign  are  her  example  grown, 

And  what  are  bounds  to  her,  you  make  your  own  ? 

When  your  assiduous  practice  doth  secure 

That  faith  which  she  professeth  to  be  pure  ? 

\Vhen  all  your  life's  a  precedent  of  days, 

And  murmur  cannot  quarrel  at  your  ways  ? 

How  is  she  barren  grown  of  love,  or  broke. 

That  nothing  can  her  gratitude  provoke  ! 

O  times  !    O  manners  !    surfeit  bread  of  ease. 

The  truly  epidemical  disease  ! 

'Tis  not  alone  the  merchant,  but  the  clown, 

Is  bankrupt  turn'd  ;    the  cassock,  cloke,  and  gown. 

Are  lost  upon  account,  and  none  will  know 

How  much  to  heaven  for  thee,  great  Charles,  they  owe  ! 

Jonson  kept  a  watchful  eye  on  domestic  events  in  the 
royal  household.  When,  for  example,  Charles  and  Mary 
lost  their  first-bom,  the  Poet  Laureate  addressed  to 
them  An  Epigram  Consolatory  not  unworthy  of  his 
powers. 

Who  dares  deny,  that  all  first-fruits  are  due 

To  God,  denies  the  Godhead  to  be  true  : 

Who  doubts  those  fruits  God  can  with  gain  restore. 

Doth  by  his  doubt  distrust  his  promise  more. 

He  can,  he  will,  and  -wdth  large  interest,  pay 

What,  at  his  liking,  he  will  take  away. 

Then,  royal  Charles  and  Mary,  do  not  grutch 

That  the  Almighty's  will  to  you  is  such  : 

But  thank  his  greatness  and  his  goodness  too  ; 

And  think  all  still  the  best  that  he  will  do. 

That  thought  shall  make,  he  will  this  loss  supply 

With  a  long,  large,  and  blest  posterity  : 

For  God,  whose  essence  is  so  infinite. 

Cannot  but  heap  that  grace  he  will  requite. 

Jonson's  tenure  of  the  ofhce  of  Poet  Laureate  lasted 
twenty-one  years.  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  appraise 
his  work  as  a  Court  poet,  for  he  did  not  belong  to  the 
conventional  type.  The  standards  by  which  most  of 
his  successors  may  be  judged  are  inapplicable  in  his  case. 
He  is  remembered  not  as  a  writer  of  odes,  heralding  at 
regular  intervals,  usually  with  a  strange  lack  of  humour 
and  a  sublime  disregard   of  truth,   the  praises  of  the 


32  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

reigning  monarch,  but  as  a  Poet  Laureate  who  employed 
his  talents  to  some  purpose  in  providing  masques  for 
the  delectation  of  the  Courts  of  James  I  and  Charles  I — 
a  species  of  spectacular  entertainment  which  had  then  a 
great  vogue,  but  which  had  languished  when  his  suc- 
cessor, D'Avenant,  was  appointed.  "  It  may  be  justly 
questioned,"  says  Gifford,  ^  "  whether  a  nobler  display  of 
grace  and  elegance  and  beauty  was  ever  beheld  than 
appeared  in  the  masques  of  Jonson."  Such  was  the 
literary  legacy  bequeathed  by  the  first  of  England's 
laureates. 

^  Jonson's  Works,  ed.  Gifford,  i,  p.  clxxvi. 


CHAPTER   III 

SIR   WILLIAM   D'AVENANT 

Contemplative  ease  and  sober  joys,  rather  than  stress 
and  conflict,  are  the  usual  accompaniments  of  poetical 
achievement ;  but  it  was  far  otherwise  with  Sir  William 
D'Avenant,  who,  in  1638,  succeeded  Ben  Jonson  as 
Poet  Laureate.  Of  the  fifteen  careers  recounted  in  this 
volume,  his  was  the  most  tumultuous,  the  most  intense. 
It  was  crowded  with  stirring  events,  with  toil,  with  mis- 
fortune, with  manifold  experience  of  the  world  and  of 
men.  A  fugitive,  an  exile,  a  soldier  of  renown,  an 
ambassador,  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  D'Avenant's  life- 
story  is  more  suggestive  of  the  man  of  action  than  of  the 
poet.  Yet  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  he  had  any  wish 
to  play  a  notable  part  in  the  drama  that  was  then  being 
enacted  between  the  Crown  and  the  ParHament.  There 
is  no  evidence  to  show  that  he  was  ever  thrilled  by  a 
noble  patriotism,  or  that  the  career  of  a  man  of  affairs 
had  special  attractions  for  him.  The  part  he  played 
was  really  not  of  his  choosing  :  he  played  it  simply 
because  no  other  v/as  open  to  him.  As  Court  poet,  the 
die  for  him  was  cast.  What  could  he  do  but  bear  arms 
for  the  King,  and  become  the  royal  emissary  ? 

It  is  idle  to  speculate  as  to  what  D'Avenant  might 
have  been  had  his  lines  been  cast  in  more  pleasant 
places.  One  thing,  however,  is  fairly  certain  :  he  would 
not  have  enriched  English  poetry  to  any  appreciable 
extent.  That  he  should  lay  down  his  pen  and  take  up 
his  sword  signified,  in  his  case,  no  literary  catastrophe, 
for,  truth  to  tell,  his  poetic  sensibility  was  of  the 
slightest.  To  place  D'Avenant  among  the  poetasters  is, 
perhaps,  to  treat  him  harshly,  but  no  injury  is  done  him 

33 

3— (2341) 


34  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

by  asserting  that  he  was  the  poet  of  one  poem,  and 
that  poem,  despite  the  opinions  of  Dryden  and  Waller 
and  Cowley,  a  mediocre  one.  Something  will  be  said  of 
Gondihert  in  the  proper  place,  but  here  it  may  be 
observed  that  it  is  a  very  considerable  monument  of 
poetical  folly.  Of  enormous  length,  it  is  also,  for  the 
most  part,  insufferably  dull,  and,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  influence,  is  as  extinct  as  the  mastodon. 
D'Avenant's  career,  then,  has  little  or  no  poetical 
significance  :  it  derives  its  main  interest  from  the 
curious  light  it  sheds  on  the  fortunes  of  the  Laureate- 
ship  at  a  critical  period  in  our  national  history. 

D'Avenant  was  an  exemplar  of  the  vanity  of  human 
wishes.  He  desired  to  be  remembered  as  the  scion  of 
a  noble  family,  and  endeavoured  to  effect  his  purpose 
by  placing  the  French  prefix  De  in  front  of  his  surname. 
But  such  fooling  probably  deceived  nobody  but  himself. 
At  all  events  it  was  provocative  of  the  following  squib — 

Some  say  by  Avenant,  no  place  is  meant. 

And  that  our  Lombard  ^  is  without  descent ; 

And  as,  by  Bilk,  men  mean  there's  nothing  there. 

So  come  from  Avenant  means  from  nowhere. 

Thus  Will,  intending  Davenant  to  grace, 

Has  made  a  notch  in's  name,  like  that  in's  face. 

Not  in  one  of  the  "  stately  homes  of  England,"  but  in 
the  Crown  tavern  at  Oxford,  did  D'Avenant  first  see 
the  light.  He  was  born  a  vintner's  son,  in  1606.  His 
father,  however,  seems  to  have  been  in  fairly  affluent 
circumstances,  for  at  the  time  of  his  death,  in  1621,  he 
was  mayor  of  the  University  city.  By  his  will  he 
decreed  that  his  son,  William,  should  be  put  "  to  prentice 
to  some  good  merchant  or  other  tradesman,"  which 
rather  implies  that  the  elder  D'Avenant,  at  any  rate, 
was  under  no  hallucination  regarding  his  family's  descent. 

'  The  scene  of  Gondibert  is  laid  in  Lombardy. 


SIR  WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  35 

In  D'Avenant's  lifetime,  and,  indeed,  for  long  after, 
a  scandalous  story  went  the  rounds  that  he  was  a  son 
of  Shakespeare — a  story  which  he  himself  was  dastard 
enough  to  help  to  circulate.  Aubrey  says  ^  that  "  Sir 
William  would  sometimes  when  he  was  pleasant  over  a 
glasse  of  wine  with  his  most  intimate  friends  ....  say 
that  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  writt  with  the  very  spirit 
that  Shakespeare  (did),  and  seemed  contented  enough  to 
be  thought  his  son."  Aubrey  is  also  the  authority  for  the 
statement  that  Shakespeare,  on  his  journeys  between 
London  and  Stratford,  usually  stayed  at  the  tavern  kept 
by  D'Avenant's  father.  The  latter's  wife,  according  to 
another  contemporary,  was  "  a  very  beautiful  woman  of  a 
good  wit  and  conversation,  in  which  she  was  imitated  by 
none  of  her  children  but  by  this  William."  But  the 
main  responsibility  for  the  story  rests  with  Oldys,  who 
was  told  by  Pope,  who  had  it  in  turn  from  Betterton, 
the  famous  actor,  that  one  day  young  D'Avenant  having 
said,  in  answer  to  the  inquiry  of  "  an  old  townsman," 
that  he  was  going  to  see  his  godfather,  Shakespeare, 
was  met  by  the  retort :  "  Have  a  care  that  you  don't 
take  God's  name  in  vain."  This  disreputable  story, 
resting,  as  it  does,  on  such  fragile  evidence,  was  yet 
widely  believed  ;  and  in  a  satirical  volume  published  in 
1655,  there  is  a  poem  which  incautiously  hints  that  it  is 
foolish  for  the  poet  to  give  a  foreign  turn  to  his  name, 
since 

D'Avenant  from    Avon  comes. 

As  regards  the  whole  incident,  there  is  wisdom  in  Sir 
Sidney  Lee's  remark,  ^  that  it  is  safer  to  adopt  the  less 
compromising  version  which  makes  Shakespeare  the 
godfather  of  D'Avenant  instead  of  his  father. 

D'Avenant's  early  education  was  obtained  at  a  private 

^   Letters  of   Eminent  Persons,  ii,  303. 
*  Life  of  Shakespeare,  1898,  p.  265. 


36  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

school  in  Oxford  taught  by  Edward  Sylvester,  "  a  noted 
Latinist  and  Grecian."  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he 
entered  Lincoln  College,  where  his  career  was  brief  and 
inglorious.  But,  says  a  contemporary  enigmatically, 
if  he  "  wanted  much  of  university  learning,  yet  he  made 
as  high  and  noble  flights  in  the  poetical  faculty  as  fancy 
could  advance  without  it."  His  first  performance  was 
an  Ode  in  Remembrance  of  Master  Shakespeare.  It  was 
a  little  unfortunate,  for  more  reasons  than  one,  that 
the  "  Sweet  swan  of  Isis,"  as  D'Avenant  was  called,  did 
not  choose  another  theme.     Here  is  the  first  stanza — 

Beware  (delighted  poets  !)  when  you  sing 
To  welcome  Nature  in  the  early  spring, 

Your  num'rous  feet  not  tread 
The  banks  of  Avon  ;  for  each  fiowre 
(As  it  nere  knew  a  Sun  or  showre) 

Hangs  there  the  pensive  head. 

Leaving  Oxford  with  only  the  husks  of  learning, 
D'Avenant  became  page  to  Frances,  first  Duchess  of 
Richmond,  an  eccentric  lady  who  had  had  three 
husbands,  and  whose  soaring  ambition  led  her  to  think 
of  sharing  a  throne.  How  D'Avenant  comported  him- 
self as  flunkey,  history  does  not  record.  He,  however, 
passed  speedily  from  the  service  of  the  whimsical 
Duchess  into  that  of  Fulke  Greville,  Lord  Brooke.  In 
what  capacity  he  served  in  the  household  of  Brooke, 
who  was  a  philosopher,  a  graceful  sonneteer,  a  patron 
of  learning,  and  the  friend  and  biographer  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  is  uncertain  ;  but  it  may  be  inferred  that  he 
was  not  a  lackey,  for,  shortly  after  Brooke's  death  at 
the  hands  of  an  assassin  in  1628,  D'Avenant  was  moving 
in  fashionable  circles  and  being  befriended  by  Endymion 
Porter,  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber  to  Charles  I,  and 
Henry  Jermyn,  subsequently  Earl  of  St.  Albans. 

Another    proof     of   his   sudden   transformation,    and 
one  which   has   an   important   bearing  on   the   Hterary 


SIR  WILLIAM  D'AVENANT  37 

aspect  of  his  career,  is  that  at  the  early  age  of  twenty- 
three  he  embarked  on  the  career  of  playwright  under 
distinguished  patronage.  In  1629  there  appeared  the 
first  of  a  series  of  twenty-five  plays,  some  of  which 
were  written  in  blank  verse  and  others  in  prose.  This 
was  The  Tragedy  of  Albovine,  King  of  the  Lombards. 
Despite  the  fact,  however,  that  it  was  dedicated  to  that 
Earl  of  Somerset  who  attempted  to  marry  Lady 
Arabella  Stuart,  cousin  of  James  I,  and  had  commenda- 
tory verses  by  Lord  Clarendon,  the  future  Chancellor 
and  historian,  it  was  never  performed.  A  better  fate 
was  in  store  for  his  next  play.  The  Cruel  Brother,  which 
was  acted  in  the  Blackfriars'  Theatre  in  1630.  Then 
came  The  Wits  (1636),  a  "  well  likt  "  comedy,  which  was 
frequently  staged  after  the  Restoration  when  Pepys 
was  a  cordial  admirer.  Charles  I,  however,  while  com- 
mending the  language,  "  dislikt  the  plott  and 
characters."  But  his  august  approval  must  have  meant 
more  than  is  here  implied,  for  he  ordered  Sir  Henry 
Herbert,  by  whom  the  play  was  licensed,  to  restore 
some  passages  that  had  been  struck  out. 

D'Avenant's  theatrical  ventures,  his  patrons,  his 
courtierlike  affinities,  his  vivacity,  wit,  and  under- 
standing all  helped  to  give  him  an  assured  position  at 
Court.  When  the  star  of  Jonson  was  no  longer  in  the 
ascendant,  he  was  entrusted  with  the  supervision  of  the 
royal  entertainments,  performing  his  duties  with  all  the 
ardour  and  energy,  but  with  only  a  tithe  of  the  ability 
of  his  illustrious  predecessor.  If  Jonson  was  easily  the 
first  of  masque-writers,  D'Avenant  was  about  the  last, 
falling  short  even  of  Shirley's  standard.  But  this 
circumstance  did  not  militate  against  the  success  of  his 
entertainments,  since  the  Court  was  now  more  partial 
to  the  ornate  pageantry  of  Inigo  Jones  than  to  songs 
and  choruses.     His  first  masque.   The  Temple  of  Love, 


'SS  THE   POETS  LAUREATE 

was  acted  by  the  Queen  and  the  ladies  of  the  Court  at 
Whitehall  on  Shrove  Tuesday,  1634.  In  the  following 
year,  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit  of  the  two  sons  of  the 
Elector  Palatine,  The  Triumphs  of  the  Prince  d' Amour 
was  presented  in  the  hall  of  the  Middle  Temple,  the 
Queen  being  present  in  "a  citizen's  habit."  Other 
pieces  specially  composed,  with  the  assistance  of  Inigo 
Jones,  for  the  diversion  of  the  Court  were  Britannia 
Triumphans,  performed  "  by  the  king's  majestie  and 
his  lords  "  at  Whitehall  on  the  Sunday  after  Twelfth 
Night,  1637,  and  Salmacida  Spolia  (1639). 

From  the  outset  of  D'Avenant's  official  connection 
with  the  Court,  the  Queen  was  a  loyal  and  highly  appre- 
ciative patroness  ;  and  it  is  noteworthy  that  on  the 
title-page  of  his  first  masque,  The  Temple  of  Love,  as 
well  as  on  that  of  a  tragi-comedy,  The  Platonick  Lovers 
(1636),  D'Avenant  describes  himself  as  "  Servant  to  her 
Majestie."  But  it  was  not  till  sixteen  months  after 
Jonson's  death,  that  he  attained  to  the  full  dignity  of 
the  Laureateship.  Mainly  through  the  Queen's  influ- 
ence. Letters  Patent  were  passed  on  13th  December, 
1638,  granting  "  in  consideration  of  service  heretofore 
done  and  hereafter  to  be  done  by  William  D'Avenant, 
gentleman,"  an  annuity  of  £1^0  per  annum  during  his 
Majesty's  pleasure.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the 
title  of  Poet  Laureate  is  not  expressly  mentioned  in  this 
document  ^ ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  D'Avenant 
really  performed  all  the  duties  which,  later  on,  became 
associated  with  the  Laureateship. 

It  ought  also  to  be  borne  in  mind,  as  emphasising  the 
view  that  an  office  with  well-defined  duties  existed,  that 
D'Avenant  had  a  formidable  rival  in  Thomas  May 
(1594-1650),  a  minor  poet  and  dramatist,  best  remem- 
bered by  his  translation  of  Lucan's  Pharsalia.     May  was 

»  See  D'Avenant's  Dram.  Works  I,  p.  xxxiv,  note. 


SIR   WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  39 

sorely  disappointed  at  being  passed  over  by  His  Majesty, 
with  whom,  according  to  Clarendon,  he  had  been  hitherto 
a  favourite,  and  at  whose  command  he  had  published, 
in  1635,  a  poem  in  seven  books,  entitled  The  Victorious 
Reign  of  Edward  III.  But  he  had  his  revenge,  for  when 
the  Civil  War  broke  out  and  D'Avenant  was  a  fugitive 
and  pensionless  Court  poet.  May,  with  a  lively  sense  of 
favours  to  come,  joined  the  Cromwellian  party,  and 
reigned  in  his  stead.  To  the  Laureateship,  the  duties 
of  which  during  the  Civil  War,  we  may  be  sure,  would 
not  be  onerous.  May  does  not  seem  to  have  been  formally 
appointed,  but  he  was  officially  recognised  as  secretary 
and  historiographer  to  the  Parliament.  Dying  in  1650, 
as  the  result  of  tying  his  nightcap  too  tightly  under  his 
chin,  he  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey.  At  the 
Restoration,  however,  the  body  of  the  spurious  Laureate 
was  removed  to  St.  Margaret's  churchyard,  and  in  the 
vacant  grave  were  placed  the  remains  of  D'Avenant. 

About  the  time  of  his  appointment  to  the  Laureate- 
ship,  D'Avenant  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  nose. 
This  physical  defect  became  the  subject  of  brutal  allu- 
sion on  the  part  of  contemporary  rhymers  who  were  in 
need  of  a  topic  on  which  to  sharpen  their  wits.  How 
the  poet  came  by  this  disfigurement  is  not  definitely 
known.  Most  of  the  satirists  follow  Aubrey,  who  attri- 
buted it  to  a  dissipated  life.  But  D'Avenant's  friend, 
Sir  John  Mennis,  put  a  more  charitable  construction  on 
the  matter,  as  the  following  epigram  shows — 

For  Will  had  in  his  face  the  flawes 
Of  markes  received  in's  countrey's  cause, 
They  flew  on  him,  like  lyons  passant, 
And  tore  his  nose,  as  much  as  was  on't, 
They  call'd  him  superstitious  groome, 
And  Popish  Dog,  and  Cur  of  Rome, 

'Twas  surely  the  first  time 
That  Will's  religion  was  a  crime. 


40  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Considering  that   D'Avenant   lost  his  nose  some  years 

before  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,  it  is  difficult  to 

understand   how   Mennis   came   to   refer   to   the   poet's 

deformity  as  a  wound  "  received  in's  countrey's  cause." 

But  the  wit  who  made  most  of  poor  D'Avenant's  nose 

was  Suckling.     That  this  should  be  so  is  rather  strange, 

since  Suckling  thought  highly  of  the  talents  of  the  Poet 

Laureate. 

Thou  hast  redeemed  us,  Will,  and  future  times 
ShaU  not  account  unto  the  age's  crimes 
Dearth  of  pure  wit ;  since  the  great  lord  of  it, 
Donne,  parted  hence,  no  man  has  ever  writ 
So  near  him,  in's  own  way.     I  would  commend 
Particulars  ;  but  then,  how  should  I  end 
Without  a  volume  ?     Every  line  of  thine 
Would  ask  (to  praise  it  right)  twenty  of  mine. 

In  A  Session  of  the  Poets,  Suckling  gives  a  droll  account 
of  various  applicants  for  the  laurel,  Jonson  and 
D'Avenant  being  among  the  number.  Apollo  is  inclined 
to  crown  D'Avenant,  but  his  nose  raises  a  difficulty — 

Will  Davenant,  asham'd  of  a  foolish  mischance 
That  he  had  got  lately  travelling  in  France, 
Modestly  hop'd  the  handsomeness  of's  muse 
Might  any  deformity  about  him  excuse. 

Surely  the  company  would  have  been  content. 
If  they  could  have  any  precedent ; 
But  in  all  their  records,  either  in  verse  or  in  prose, 
There  was  not  one  Laureate  without  e'er  a  nose. 

Apollo  is,  therefore,  compelled,  because  of  D'Avenant 
being  without  a  nose,  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  honouring 
him  with  the  laurel,  and  to  present  it  to  an  obese  and 
unimaginative  alderman  instead. 

The  Poet  Laureate,  who,  before  the  loss  of  his  nose, 
was  regarded  as  a  handsome  man,  felt  acutely  the 
insults  and  ridicule  that  were  heaped  upon  him,  and 
hotly  retaliated.  But  recrimination  begets  recrimination, 
and  D'Avenant  was  paid  back  in  liis  own  coin. 


SIR  WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  41 

Thou  hadst  not  thus  been  long  neglected, 
But  we,  thy  four  best  friends,  expected. 
Ere  this  time,  thou  hadst  stood  corrected  ; 
But  since  that  planet  governs  still. 
That  rules  thy  tedious  fustian  quill, 
'Gainst  Nature  and  the  Muses'  will  ; 
When,   by  thy  friends'   advice  and  care, 
'Twas  hoped,  in  time,  thou  wouldst  despair 
To  give  ten  pounds  to  write  it  fair  ; 
Lest  thou  to  all  the  world  would  show  it. 
We  thought  it  fit  to  let  thee  know  it  ; 
Thou  art  a  d insipid  poet  ! 

D'Avenant  was  still  on  the  threshold  of  his  career  when 
there  was  commenced  that  long  and  devastating  contest 
between  the  Crown  and  the  Parliament  by  which  Charles 
lost  his  head,  and  his  poet  lost  his  pension.  So  far  as 
D'Avenant  was  concerned,  the  Rubicon  was  crossed. 
He  was  the  King's  poet,  and  could  hardly  complain  if 
he  came  in  for  a  deal  of  rough  usage  at  the  hands 
of  the  victorious  Commoners.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is 
certain  that  at  an  early  stage  of  the  war,  he  and  his 
feUow-poet,  Suckling,  like  chivalrous  men,  were  doing 
their  best  to  mobilize  the  Royalist  army,  and,  being 
found  out  by  their  adversaries,  had  to  fly  for  their  lives. 
Twice  the  fugitive  Poet  Laureate  was  captured  :  first 
at  Faversham  and  then  at  Canterbury,  and  twice  he 
made  unsuccessful  attempts  to  escape.  But  he  was  not 
to  be  thwarted  from  his  purpose,  and  the  third  attempt 
succeeded.  Making  his  way  to  France,  whither  the 
Queen  had  already  gone,  he  busied  himself  with  the 
collecting  of  stores  for  the  Royalist  army,  and  when 
these  were  ready  he  conveyed  them  to  England  at  the 
request  of  the  Queen.' 

We  now  behold  D'Avenant  in  a  surprising  light,  i.e., 
the  Poet  Laureate  turned  soldier.  Appointed  Lieu- 
tenant-General  of  Ordnance,  he  is  said  to  have  fought 
valiantly  for  his  King,  who,  at  the  siege  of  Gloucester 


42  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

in  1643,  conferred  on  him  the  honour  of  knighthood. 
Henceforth  his  Hfe  was  mainly  a  record  of  the  successes 
and  reverses  of  the  Royalist  party.  When  dire  misfortune 
overtook  the  King's  forces,  he  again  sought  shelter 
in  France,  where  the  exiled  Queen  seems  to  have  held 
a  mock  Court.  About  this  time,  D'Avenant  became  a 
convert  to  Roman  Catholicism,  and  while  in  the  flush 
of  enthusiasm  for  his  new  faith,  Her  Majesty  sent  him 
to  the  King  to  counsel  him  to  "  part  with  the  Church 
for  his  peace  and  security."  Clarendon,  while  admitting 
that  the  Poet  Laureate  was  "  an  honest  man  and  a 
witty,"  maintains  that  he  was  in  all  respects  inferior  to 
such  a  trust.  ^  And,  certainly,  the  historian's  account  of 
the  interview  between  Charles  and  D'Avenant  does  not 
betray  his  judgment,  for  the  Poet  Laureate  was  tactless 
enough  to  make  a  disparaging  reference  to  the  Church 
as  by  law  established,  whereat  his  Sovereign  was 
"  transported  with  so  much  passion  and  indignation 
that  he  gave  him  more  reproachful  terms  and  a  sharper 
reprehension  than  he  did  ever  afterwards  any  other 
man  ;  and  forbad  him  to  presume  to  come  again  into 
his  presence.  Whereupon  the  poor  man,  who  had  in 
truth  very  good  affections,  was  exceedingly  dejected 
and  afflicted."  2 

Charles,  whatever  else  he  might  be,  was  neither  a 
poltroon  nor  an  opportunist.  When  he  had  decided  on 
a  course  of  action,  even  though  it  were  obviously 
suicidal,  it  was  vain  to  talk  to  him  about  "  his  peace 
and  security."  D'Avenant  had,  therefore,  no  alter- 
native but  to  return  to  Paris,  and  to  inform  the  Queen 
that  his  mission  had  egregiously  failed.  Taking  up  his 
quarters  in  the  Louvre  as  the  guest  of  Henry  Jermyn,  he 
now  prepared  for  a  prolonged  stay  in  the  French  capital. 

»    History  of  the  Rebellion.  1849  ed.,  iv,  224. 
»    Ibid.,  iv.  225. 


SIR  WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  43 

Some  time  previously  he  had  conceived  the  idea  of 
writing  a  poem  which  he  vainly  thought  would  bring 
him  immortality.  This  literary  project  he  now  pro- 
ceeded to  carry  out,  but  two  books  only  of  his  magnuyn 
opus,  Gondihert,  had  been  written  when  the  Queen,  who 
appears  to  have  entertained  most  exalted  notions  of  his 
prudence  and  capacity,  placed  him  in  charge  of  an 
expedition  bound  for  the  colony  of  Virginia.  What  the 
object  of  the  expedition  was  is  not  very  apparent,  but 
the  point  is  of  no  great  importance,  for  before  D'Avenant 
and  his  fellow-passengers  had  got  clear  of  the  French 
coast,  they  were  captured  by  a  Parliament  ship,  and 
the  Poet  Laureate  began  a  new  chapter  of  his  life  as  a 
prisoner  in  Cowes  Castle. 

Being  resigned  to  his  fate,  and  hoping  only  that 
nothing  worse  should  befal  him,  he  resumed  the  com- 
position of  Gondihert.  When  midway  through  the  third 
book,  a  presentiment  of  being  engaged  in  the  "  experi- 
ment "  of  dying  took  possession  of  him.  In  a  lachry- 
mose postscript  to  the  reader  he  thus  refers  to  his  gloomy 
foreboding  :  "  It  is  high  time  to  strike  sail  and  cast 
anchor,  though  I  have  run  but  half  my  course,  when  at 
the  helm  I  am  threatened  with  death  ;  who,  though  he 
can  visit  us  but  once,  seems  troublesome  ;  and  even  in 
the  innocent  may  beget  such  gravity  as  diverts  the  music 
of  verse.  Even  in  a  worthy  design,  I  shall  ask  leave  to 
desist,  when  I  am  interrupted  by  so  great  an  experiment 
as  dying  ;  and  'tis  an  experiment  to  the  most  experi- 
enced ;  for  no  man  (though  his  mortifications  may  be 
much  greater  than  mine)  can  say  he  has  already  died." 

It  must  be  admitted  that  D'Avenant's  life  at  this  time 
was  in  great  danger,  not  because  of  bodily  ailments,  but 
because  of  the  stress  of  outward  circumstance.  In  inti- 
mating to  Hobbes  that  it  was  foolish  to  continue  ^vriting 
Gondihert,  since  there  was  a  prospect  of  his  being  beheaded 


44  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

within  a  few  days,  ^  he  was  by  no  means  giving  rein  to 
his  imagination.  Regarded  as  a  dangerous  enemy  of  the 
Commonwealth,  he  was  arraigned  before  a  court  of  High 
Commission  in  London,  and  only  escaped  the  utmost 
penalty  of  the  law  through  the  intervention  of  no  less 
a  person  than  Milton,  who  was  assisted  by  two  aldermen 
of  York,  to  whom,  and  to  the  poet,  D'Avenant  had 
formerly  done  some  service.  Milton's  good  offices  on 
behalf  of  a  brother  of  the  Muses,  who  was  in  danger  of 
being  sent  to  the  block,  is  one  of  the  few  incidents  in 
D'Avenant's  career  on  which  one  cares  to  dwell.  The 
Poet  Laureate,  be  it  said  to  his  credit,  never  forgot  his 
indebtedness  to  the  author  of  Paradise  Lost ;  and  when 
at  last  the  Royalists  were  again  triumphant,  and  Milton 
was  a  recusant,  D'Avenant,  it  is  said,  reciprocated  the 
kind  act  of  the  great  poet,  and  obtained  his  pardon. 

The  scaffold  had  been  escaped,  but  not  the  prison. 
For  two  years,  the  Poet  Laureate  was  confined  in  the 
Tower.  Then,  in  1652,  probably  through  the  good  offices 
of  Lord-keeper  Whitelocke,  he  was  released.  The  event 
gave  rise  to  several  lampoons,  one  of  the  best  being 
U'pon  Fighting  Will. 

The  King  knights  Will  for  fighting  on  his  side  ; 

Yet  when  Will  comes  for  fighting  to  be  tried, 

There  is  not  one  in  all  the  armies  can 

Say  they  e'er  felt,  or  saw,  this  fighting  man. 

Strange  that  the  knight  should  not  be  known  i'  th'  field, 

A  face  well  charg'd,  though  nothing  in  his  shield. 

Sure  Fighting  Will  like  basilisk  did  ride 

Among  the  troops,  and  all  that  saiv  Will  died  ; 

Else,  how  could  Will,  for  fighting  be  a  knight, 

And  now  alive  that  ever  saw  Will  fight  ? 

The  monotony  of  D'Avenant's  incarceration  in  the 
Tower  was  broken  by  the  pubhcation,  in  1651,  of  the 
epic  poem  of  Gondibert.     Begun  in  exile  and  finished  in 

*    abbey's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  ii,  73. 


SIR   WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  45 

prison,  it  was  truly  the  fruit  of  adversity.  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  who  alone  among  modern  critics  has  the  courage 
to  bestow  more  than  tepid  praise  on  Gondibert,  describes 
it  as  "a  meritorious,  though  a  misguided  and  unsuc- 
cessful effort,  to  rescue  poetry  from  becoming  the  mere 
handmaid  of  pleasure,  or  the  partisan  of  personal  and 
political  disputes,  and  to  restore  her  to  her  natural  rank 
in  society,  as  an  auxiliary  of  religion,  law,  and  virtue. 
.  .  .  Gondibert  intimates  everywhere  a  mind  above 
those  laborious  triflers,  who  called  that  poetry  which 
was  only  verse."  ^ 

So  far  from  ranking  D'Avenant  superior  to  the 
"  laborious  trifler,"  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  a  term 
which  would  more  accurately  describe  him.  Gondibert 
repels  from  every  point  of  view.  It  is  falsely  conceived, 
badly  constructed,  and  is  wanting  in  the  primary 
requisites  of  an  epic  poem.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Lom- 
bardy,  but,  except  the  name,  there  is  little  to  suggest 
the  sunny  skies,  the  fair  champaigns,  and  the  vine-clad 
slopes  of  northern  Italy.  Then,  the  characters  of  the 
poem — the  Birthas,  the  Hurgonills,  the  Rhodalinds,  and 
the  Paradinos — are  insipid  creatures  bearing  uneupho- 
nious  names.  One  does,  it  is  true,  occasionally  come 
upon  a  passage  which  has  the  ring  of  poetry,  such  as  the 
following — 

Yet  sadly  it  is  sung  that  she  in  shades 

Mildly  as  mourning  doves  love's  sorrows  felt ; 

Whilst  in  her  secret  tears  her  freshness  fades, 
As  roses  silently  in  lymbecks  melt. 

But  large  portions  of  the  poem  are  quite  unreadable. 
Gondibert,  it  has  been  remarked,  is  a  book  to  be  praised 
rather  than  read. 

The  prose  preface  which  D'Avenant  addressed  "  to 
his  much  honoured  friend,  Mr.  Hobs,"  is  as  verbose  as 

^  Dryden  :    Works,  ed.  Saintsbury,  i,  41. 


46  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

the  poem,  though  not  so  barren.  Dr3"den  made  it  the 
model  of  the  critical  introductions  to  his  own  plays,  as 
he  copied  the  "  interwoven  stanza  of  four  "  in  his  Annus 
Mirahilis.  Hobbes  was  overcome  by  the  unexpected 
honour,  and  sent  a  reply  (printed  along  with  the  pre- 
face) which  showed  the  Malmesbury  philosopher  to  be 
as  long-winded  as  D'Avenant.  He  excused  himself  from 
commending  Gondihert  on  two  grounds.  "  I  lie  open," 
he  writes,  "  to  two  exceptions  :  one  of  an  incompetent, 
the  other  of  a  corrupted  witness.  Incompetent,  because 
I  am  not  a  poet  ;  and  corrupted  with  the  honour  done 
me  by  3/our  preface."  Nevertheless,  Hobbes  summoned 
up  courage  to  say  that  he  "  never  yet  saw  a  poem  that 
had  so  much  shape  of  art,  health  of  morality,  and  vigour 
and  beauty  of  expression  as  this  of  yours." 

The  well-intentioned  but  highly  uncritical  epistle  of 
Hobbes  pleased  D'Avenant,  but  stirred  the  envy  of  his 
rivals.  Eager  for  a  literary  feud,  the}''  accused  the 
philosopher  of  raising  expectations  concerning  Gondibert 
too  high — which  was  indeed  true. 

Room  for  the  best  of  poets  heroic 

If  you'll  believe  two  wits  and  a  Stoic. 

Down  go  the    Iliads,  down  go  the  JEneidos  ; 

All  must  give  place  to  Gondiberteidos. 

For  to  Homer  and  Virgil  he  has  a  just  pique 

Because  one's  writ  in  Latin,  the  other  in  Greek  ; 

Besides  an  old  grudge  (our  critics  they  say  so) 

With  Ovid,  because  his  surname  was  Naso. 

If  fiction  the  fame  of  a  poet  thus  raises, 

WTiat  poets  are  you  that  have  writ  his  praises  ! 

But  we  justly  quarrel  at  this  our  defeat, 

You  give  us  a  stomach,  he  gives  us  no  meat. 

A  Preface  to  no  book,  a  porch  to  no  house, 

Here  is  the  mountain,  but  where  is  the  mouse  ? 

Was  there  ever  so  much  commotion  about  so  worth- 
less a  poem  ?  Aubrey  asserts  that  "  the  courtiers  with 
the  Prince  of  Wales  would  never  be  at  quiet  about  the 


SIR  WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  47 

piece."  Cowley  praised  it,  and  Waller  raved  about  the 
"  matchless  book." 

Wherein  those  few  that  can  with  judgment  look, 
May  find  old  lore  in  pure  fresh  language  told. 

In  such  a  style  as  courts  may  boast  of  now  ; 
"WTiich  no  bold  tales  of  gods  or  monsters  swell, 
But  human  passions,  such  as  with  us  dwell. 
Man  is  thy  theme  ;  his  virtue  or  his  rage, 
DraAvn  to  the  life  in  each  elaborate  page. 

Pope  was  more  discriminating.  He  characterised 
Gondibert  as  "  not  a  good  poem,  if  you  take  it  in  the 
whole,  though  there  are  many  good  things  in  it." 
Denham  and  others  ridiculed  it,  while  The  Incomparable 
Poem  "  Gondibert "  Vindicated  (1655),  though  it  pur- 
ports to  be  a  defence,  is  in  reality  an  insidious  attack,  the 
piquancy  of  which,  as  D'Israeli  pointed  out  long  ago  in 
his  Quarrels  of  Authors,  is  heightened  by  assigning  it  to 
D'Avenant   himself. 

For  some  years  after  his  release  from  the  Tower, 
D'Avenant  skulked  about  the  country,  his  Court  appoint- 
ment under  the  late  King  and  his  intrigues  on  behalf 
of  the  Royalists  in  the  early  stages  of  the  war  naturally 
rendering  him  suspect  with  the  regicides  who  were  still 
reaping  the  fruits  of  their  victory.  The  Poet  Laureate 
must  have  been  by  this  time  in  desperate  straits  for 
money.  Not  only  had  his  pension  remained  in  abeyance 
for  fifteen  years,  but  the  avenues  of  lucrative  industry 
were  entirely  closed  to  him.  How  to  earn  a  living 
must,  therefore,  have  been  the  most  pressing  of  all 
questions.  He  had  thoughts  of  resuming  his  old  occupa- 
tion of  playwright,  but  then  the  Puritans  frowned  on 
the  theatre.  Necessity,  however,  knows  no  law,  and 
the  starving  Laureate,  after  much  importunity,  suc- 
ceeded, through  the  influence  of  his  old  friend,  White- 
locke,  in  obtaining  permission  to  present  a  species  of 


48  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

entertainment  in  which  music  became  the  handmaid  of 
the  drama. 

Accordingly,  in  1656,  there  was  produced  The  Siege 
of  Rhodes  :  Made  a  Representation  by  the  Art  of  Per- 
spective in  Scenes  and  the  story  sung  in  recitative  Musick, 
which  a  writer  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography 
characterises  as  "in  some  respects  the  most  epoch - 
marking  play  in  the  language."  It  was  virtually  the 
first  opera  produced  in  England.  Dryden,  in  his  essay 
on  heroic  plays,  explains  that  the  rigorous  prohibition 
of  tragedies  and  comedies  in  Puritan  times,  forced 
D'Avenant  "  to  turn  his  thoughts  another  way,  and  to 
introduce  the  examples  of  moral  virtue  written  in  verse 
and  performed  in  recitative  music."  D'Avenant  took 
the  Italian  opera  for  his  model  as  regards  the  musical 
part  of  the  entertainment,  while  his  characters  were 
moulded  after  those  of  Comeille  and  other  French 
dramatists.  The  actors  were  nearly  all  musicians  ;  and 
it  is  interesting  to  recall  that  among  them  were  Henry 
Purcell,  greatest  of  English  composers,  and  Matthew 
Lock,  composer  of  the  music  to  Macbeth.  It  is  note- 
worthy also  that  The  Siege  of  Rhodes  was  the  first 
dramatic  piece  to  be  performed  in  this  country  with 
movable  scenery,  and,  even  more  important,  the  first 
in  which  a  woman  acted  a  part.  Furthermore,  it  prac- 
tically revived  the  drama  in  England  which  had  been 
quiescent  since  the  earlier  years  of  James  I's  reign, 
when  the  play  was  ousted  by  the  masque.  D'Avenant 
did  more.  He  raised  the  theatre  "  from  the  condition 
of  a  booth  at  a  fair,"  and  brought  it  to  some  extent 
into  line  with  modem  conceptions  of  dramatic 
representation. 

Meanwhile,  the  moral  and  religious  fervour  of  Puritan- 
ism had  spent  its  force.  The  theatre  was  no  longer  held 
in  abhorrence,  but  the  Puritan  tradition  still  lingered. 


SIR  WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  49 

and  D'Avenant  had  to  pursue  warily  his  avocation  of 
playwright.  In  1658,  however,  he  was  daring  enough 
to  open  the  Cockpit  in  Drury  Lane,  and  to  produce 
"  a  new  opera  after  the  Italian  way  in  recitative,  music, 
and  sceanes,"  Evelyn  mentions  in  his  Diary  having 
witnessed  it  on  5th  May,  1659,  and  adds  that  his  Puritan 
conscience  was  in  revolt.  Richard  Cromwell,  on  the 
other  hand,  instituted  an  inquiry  respecting  the  per- 
formance of  opera  at  the  Cockpit,  and  the  authority  by 
which  it  was  "  exposed  to  pulDlick  view."  It  was  the 
last  stand  in  defence  of  the  high  principles  of  the  Com- 
monwealth. Charles  II  was  hurrying  to  claim  his  own, 
and  the  curtain  was  about  to  be  rung  up  on  the 
Restoration  drama. 

Once  Charles  had  established  his  Court  at  Whitehall, 
it  was  but  fair  that  so  staunch  and  trusted  a  Royalist 
as  D'Avenant  should  have  his  reward.  Accordingly, 
we  find  him  restored  to  his  royal  office,  the  emoluments 
of  which  he  had  not  enjoyed  for  nearly  twenty  years. 
But  his  chief  interest  now  was  not  in  poetry,  but  in  the 
drama.  The  play  not  only  brought  him  fame,  but  what 
he  most  needed — substantial  profits.  In  1662  he  estab- 
lished a  company  of  players  known  as  the  Duke's  (from 
the  name  of  its  patron,  the  Duke  of  York)  in  a  new 
theatre  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  But  its  prosperity  was 
retarded  by  the  opposition  of  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  whose 
authority  as  Master  of  the  Revels,  D'Avenant  tried  to 
ignore.  Herbert  sought  to  damage  the  Laureate's 
reputation  at  Court,  and  when  his  efforts  failed,  he 
objected  to  the  high  prices  charged  at  playhouses,  and 
issued  a  warrant  requiring  the  actors  at  D'Avenant's 
theatre  to  submit  to  him  all  plays  they  intended  to  act 
in  order  that  they  might  be  purged  of  "  prophanes  and 
ribaldry."  This  led  to  further  bickerings,  and  ulti- 
mately developed  into  a  lawsuit,  which  was  referred  by 

4— (8341) 


50  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

the  King  to  Lord  Chancellor  Clarendon  and  the  Lord 
Chamberlain.  Herbert  accused  D'Avenant  of  being  a 
traitor,  affirming  that  he  "  exercised  the  office  of  Master 
of  the  Revels  to  Oliver  the  Tyrant,"  and  that  he 
published  a  poem  justifying  the  Cromwellian  regime  and 
an  epithalamium  in  praise  of  the  Protector's  daughter, 
Mrs.  Rich.  These  charges,  however,  were  not  sustained,  and 
the  Poet  Laureate  continued  to  merit  the  royal  approval. 

D'Avenant  now  bent  all  his  energies  to  the  writing 
of  plays.  Nor  did  his  labours  go  unrewarded,  his  net 
drawings  amounting  at  one  time  to  the  respectable  sum 
of  £200  a  week.  The  money  was  easily  earned,  for, 
beyond  clever  but  coarse  wit,  these  plays  have  little  to 
recommend  them.  But  they  harmonised  with  the  pre- 
vailing taste,  and  were  staged  with  an  originality  and 
splendour  wholly  unprecedented.  Moreover,  D'Avenant's 
innovation  whereby  the  female  parts  were  acted  by 
women  was  now  in  full  operation.  For  example,  in  The 
Siege  of  Rhodes  there  were  no  fewer  than  four  actresses, 
one  of  whom  was  Mrs.  Sanderson,  who  subsequently 
became  the  wife  of  Betterton. 

In  a  humorous  sketch,  entitled,  Adventures  in  the  Poet's 
Elysium,  published  shortly  after  the  Laureate's  death, 
D'Avenant  is  represented  as  being  badly  received  in 
Hades  by  various  poets,  notably  Shakespeare,  who  was 
much  offended  with  him  "  for  so  spoiling  and  mangling 
of  his  plays."  The  allusion  is  to  D'Avenant's  mutilation 
of  Shakespeare's  Measure  for  Measure,  The  Tempest,  and 
Macbeth,  in  order  to  suit  the  tastes  of  those  who  had 
been  nurtured  on  the  Restoration  drama.  It  was  a 
wicked  thing  to  do,  for,  as  Dryden  himself  admitted  in 
his  prologue  to  The  Tempest,  which  he  and  D'Avenant 
did  their  best  to  bring  up  to  date, 

Shakespeare's  magic  could  not  copied  be 
Within  that  circle  none  durst  walk  but  he. 


SIR  WILLIAM   D'AVENANT  51 

But  good  came  out  of  evil.  Alexander  Chalmers,  in  a 
brief  sketch  prefixed  to  his  edition  of  D'Avenant's  poems, 
asserts  that  the  Laureate  "  assisted  in  banishing  Shake- 
speare to  make  way  for  dramas  that  are  now  intolerable." 
We  should  rather  say  that  he  helped  to  popularise  him. 
Was  not  this  mutilation  of  Shakespeare  a  blessing  in 
disguise  ?  Misguided  D'Avenant's  efforts  undoubtedly 
were,  but  surely  he  did  something  towards  familiarising 
the  minds  of  the  men  of  his  day  with  the  lofty  concep- 
tions of  the  prince  of  dramatists.  The  meticulous 
Pepys,  who  condemned  The  Tempest  for  having  "  no 
great  wit,"  and  considered  Midsummer  Night's  Dream 
a  "  most  insipid  and  ridiculous  play,"  yet  witnessed 
thirty-six  performances  of  twelve  of  Shakespeare's 
plays  between  1660  and  1668,  the  year  of  D'Avenant's 
death.  ^  Unquestionably,  the  Laureate  rode  roughshod 
over  the  beauties  of  Shakespeare  ;  but  it  is  true  also 
that  his  versions  of  the  plays  acquainted  the  non-literary 
and  uncritical  portion  of  the  public  with  the  name  of 
the  great  dramatist,  and  with  at  least  an  adumbration 
of  several  of  his  works. 

Measure  for  Measure,  radically  altered  to  permit  of 
the  introduction  of  the  characters  of  Benedick  and 
Beatrice,  was  produced  in  1662  under  the  title  of  Law 
Against  Lovers.  But  its  popularity  was  slight  com- 
pared with  that  of  The  Tempest,  or  The  Enchanted  Island, 
which,  according  to  Pepys,  was  played  for  the  first  time 
in  1667.  In  emasculating  this  finished  product  of 
Shakespeare's  art,  D'Avenant,  as  has  already  been 
stated,  had  the  assistance  of  Dry  den ;  and  "  the  effect 
produced  by  the  conjunction  of  these  two  powerful 
minds,"  says  Johnson,  "  was  that  to  Shakespeare's 
monster,  Caliban,  is  added  a  sister-monster  Sicorax ; 
and  a  woman,  who,  in  the  original  play,  had  never  seen 

1   Lee's  Life  of  Shakespeare,  1898,  ed.,  329-30. 


52  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

a  man,  is  in  this  brought  acquainted  with  a  man  that 
had  never  seen  a  woman."  ^  Southey  marvels  "  that 
two  men  of  such  great  and  indubitable  genius  should 
have  combined  to  debase  and  vulgarise  and  pollute  such 
a  poem  as  The  Tempest."  To  talk  of  D'Avenant  as  a 
man  of  "  great  and  indubitable  genius  "  is  arrant  non- 
sense. There  need  therefore  be  no  surprise  that  he 
was  guilty  of  the  superb  folly  laid  to  his  charge,  but 
that  Dryden  should  have  been  his  accomplice  is 
astonishing.  In  his  preface  to  The  Tempest,  he  declares 
that  he  did  not  set  any  value  on  what  he  had  written 
in  the  play,  but  cherished  it  out  of  gratitude  to  the 
memory  of  D'Avenant,  who  did  him  "  the  honour  (!) 
to  join  me  with  him  in  the  alteration  of  it."  And  then 
he  adds  with  delicious  naivete :  "It  was  originally 
Shakespeare's — a  poet  for  whom  he  (D'Avenant)  had 
particularly  a  high  veneration,  and  whom  he  first  taught 
me  to  admire." 

D'Avenant  also  accomplished  the  feat  of  turning 
Macbeth  into  an  opera.  Genest  has  a  note  on  this  ver- 
sion to  the  effect  that  it  "  was  brought  forward  with 
machines  for  the  witches,  with  dancing,  and  with  all 
that  singing  which  still  continues  to  disgrace  this  admir- 
able tragedy.  In  this  shape  it  was  very  successful,  and 
proved  a  lasting  play.  It  was  published  in  1674  with 
all  the  alterations,  amendments,  additions,  and  new 
songs,  as  acted  at  the  Duke's  Theatre."  ^  D'Avenant, 
again  assisted  by  Dryden,  is  also  credited  with  a 
wretched  version  of  Julius  Ccesar,  published  in  1719. 

Successful  as  a  dramatist,  patronised  by  the  Court, 
and  ranked  among  the  opulent,  D'Avenant,  in  his 
last  years,  found  himself  amply  compensated  for  the 
misfortunes  of  his  youth.     But  while  growing  rich  and 

*  Lives  of  the  Poets.    Hill's  ed.,  i,  341. 

*  Account  of  the  English  Stage,  i,   139. 


SIR  WILLIAM   DAVENANT  53 

popular,  he  did  nothing  to  strengthen  his  poetical 
reputation.  He  was  content  to  stand  or  fall  by 
Gondihert.  As  for  the  Laureateship,  its  duties  were 
discharged  most  perfunctorily.  He  wrote  nothing  which 
would  entitle  him  to  rank  even  among  the  second-rate 
poets  who  have  held  the  office.  Pope,  however,  thought 
sufficiently  well  of  his  poem  To  the  Queen  Entertained 
at  Night  by  the  Countess  of  Anglesey  to  filch  two  lines 
from  it. 

Faire  as  unshaded  light,  or  as  the  day 

In  its  first  birth,  when  all  the  year  was  May  ; 

Sweet  as  the  altars  smoak,  or  as  the  new 

Unfolded  bud,  swel'd  by  the  early  dew  ; 

Smooth  as  the  face  of  waters  first  appear'd. 

Ere  tides  began  to  stri\'e,  or  winds  were  heard  ; 

Kind  as  the  willing  saints,  and  calmer  farre 

Than  in  their  sleeps  forgiven  hermits  are. 

You  that  are  more  than  our  discreeter  feare 

Dares  praise,  with  such  full  art,  what  make  you  here  ? 

Here,  where  the  summer  is  so  little  seen, 

That  leaves  (her  cheapest  wealth),  scarce  reach  at  green  ; 

You  come,  as  if  the  silver  planet  were 

Misled  a  while  from  her  much  injur 'd  sphere  ; 

And,  t'  ease  the  travels  of  her  beames  to-night, 

In  this  small  lanthorn  would  contract  her  light. 

A  modern  critic,  too,  considers  that  D'Avenant  left 
behind  him  something  to  make  his  countrymen 
remember  his  name  with  gratitude  in  the  beautiful 
song  beginning — 

The  lark  now  leaves  his  watry  nest. 
And  climbing  shakes  his  dewy  wings  : 

He  takes  this  window  for  the  east. 
And  to  implore  your  light  he  sings  : 

Awake,  awake,  the  morn  will  never  rise. 

Till  she  can  dress  her  beauty  at  your  eies  ! 

One  can  scarcely  hope  to  revivify  D'Avenant's  per- 
sonality. Few  scraps  of  strictly  personal  information 
have  come  down  to  us,  but  such  as  they  are,  they  do 
not  present  the  Poet  Laureate  in  a  particularly  amiable 


54  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

light.  The  grossness  of  some  of  his  plays  has,  indeed, 
prepared  us  for  the  judgment  of  Bishop  Warburton  that 
he  was  a  debauchee.  But  the  dissoluteness  of  his  life 
was  no  barrier  in  that  licentious  age  to  his  society  being 
courted  by  the  great.  He  was  witty,  if  not  wise ;  and 
rumour  has  it  that  he  was  an  excellent  conversationalist. 
At  times  he  could  be  brave  and  resourceful,  and  we 
have  the  impartial  testimony  of  his  rival,  Thomas  May, 
that  after  his  elevation  to  the  Laureateship  he  did  not 
forsake  his  old  friends.  We  know,  too,  that  he  dabbled 
in  religion  as  he  dabbled  in  politics.  Ostensibly  a 
Roman  Catholic,  he  yet  believed,  says  Aubrey,  that 
there  was  a  happy  time  coming  when  all  religion  would 
resolve  itself  into  "  a  kind  of  ingeniose  Quakerisme."  ^ 

D'Avenant  died  in  1668  at  the  playhouse  in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  where  so  many  of  his  dramatic  triumphs  had 
been  won.  He  was,  as  already  indicated,  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey  ;  and  above  his  grave  was  inscribed, 
in  imitation  of  his  renowned  predecessor  in  the 
Laureateship,  the  legend — 

"  O  rare  sir  William  d'avenant." 

1  Letters  by  Eminent  Persons,  ii,  310. 


CHAPTER   IV 

JOHN    DRYDEN 

The  erratic  fortunes  of  the  Laureateship  is  one  of  the 
depressing  facts  of  our  literary  history.  The  distinction 
has  been  conferred  with  scrupulous  impartiality  on  the 
fit  and  on  the  unfit,  on  the  poet  who  has  a  reputation 
to  lose,  and  on  the  facile  versifier  who  is  vainly  searching 
for  one.  Of  this  we  have  an  impressive  reminder  when 
the  careers  of  D'Avenant  and  of  his  successor,  Dryden, 
are  juxtaposed.  To  compare  the  one  with  the  other 
is  to  compare  a  pigmy  with  a  giant,  to  place  one  of  the 
east  notable  of  the  Poets  Laureate  alongside  one  whose 
genius  created  the  poetical  splendour  of  an  age.  Only 
four  poets  of  the  first  magnitude  have  held  the  office, 
and  Dryden  is  one  of  them.  After  his  enforced  retire- 
ment from  the  Laureateship  at  the  Revolution,  he  had 
no  successor  in  his  own  rank  until  the  appointment  of 
Wordsworth  exactly  a  century  and  three-quarters  later. 

And  yet,  notwithstanding  his  poetic  greatness,  it  would 
be  foolish  to  afhrm  that  Dryden  added  to  the  dignity  of 
the  Laureateship.  He  was  Poet  Laureate  in  two  reigns, 
and  held  the  office  for  eighteen  years.  He  had,  there- 
fore, ample  opportunity  to  develop  to  their  fullest  extent 
his  ideals  with  regard  to  it.  But  who  shall  say  that  his 
record  is  inspiring  ? 

Someone  has  remarked  with  admirable  point  that 
Dryden  is  the  most  worldly  of  all  our  great  poets.  His 
mind  was  essentially  secular.  He  did  obeisance  to  a  low 
standard  of  ethical  attainment.  Seldom,  indeed,  did  he 
look  beyond  the  horizon  of  self-interest.  His  lot,  it  is 
true,  was  cast  in  an  age  of  low  aims  and  sordid  purposes, 
but   a   man   of  his  superlative  gifts   might   have  risen 

55 


56  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

superior  to  the  prevailing  tone  and  temper.  It  may 
also  be  conceded  that  he  received  small  encouragement 
from  "  the  needy  Charles,  who  loved  literary  merit  with- 
out rewarding  it  ;  the  saturnine  James,  who  rewarded 
without  loving  it  ;  and  the  phlegmatic  William,  who 
did  neither  the  one  nor  the  other."  ^  Yet  when  all 
allowances  have  been  made,  we  are  still  confronted  with 
the  melancholy  fact  that  it  was  within  Dryden's  power 
to  have  covered  the  Laureateship  with  glory,  and  that 
he  failed  to  do  so. 

It  was,  of  course,  the  man  and  not  the  poet  that  erred. 
Thomas  Gray,  who  had  some  claim  to  be  heard  in  the 
matter,  having  himself  rather  scomfull}^  declined  the 
Laureateship,  wrote  that  Dryden  "  was  as  disgraceful  to 
the  office  from  his  character  as  the  poorest  scribbler 
could  have  been  from  his  verses."  ^  This  is  severe  ;  but 
when  all  the  circumstances  are  taken  into  account,  not 
too  severe.  The  judgment  of  an  incorrigible  Wliig  like 
Macaulay  concerning  a  Court  poet  who  was  irrevocably 
identified  with  the  Tories,  must  necessarily  be  accepted 
with  caution  ;  but  the  historian  is  not  expressing  himself 
in  the  language  of  hyperbole  when  he  says  that  Dryden 
was  not  a  man  of  high  spirit  ;  that  his  pursuits  were  not 
such  as  were  likely  to  give  elevation  or  delicacy  to  his 
mind  ;  and  that  "  he  had,  during  many  years,  earned  his 
daily  bread  by  pandering  to  the  vicious  taste  of  the  pit, 
and  by  grossly  flattering  rich  and  noble  patrons."  ^ 

The  age  was  hopelessly  venal,  and  Dryden  was  not 
better  than  his  age.  A  Puritan  and  a  Royalist,  an 
ardent  member  of  the  Church  of  England  and  a  devout 
Roman  Catholic,  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Cromwell, 
and  the   Poet   Laureate  and  friend  of   Charles   II   and 

*  Scott.     Dryden's  Works,  xiv,  210,  note. 

*  Letters,  i.  374. 

'    History  of  England.     Pop.  ed.  i,  424. 


<^y)  L '-,  9o  li  / 1   iDi  yde?  i 


JOHN    DRYDEN 
After  a  portrait  by  Sir  Godfrey   Kneller 


JOHN   DRYDEN  57 

James  II — Dryden's  gift  of  being  all  things  to  all  men 
was  truly  marvellous.  His  protean  performances  sur- 
prised his  friends  and  baffled  his  enemies.  Dryden's 
apologists  are  neither  few  nor  uninfluential,  but  when 
they  have  said  their  last  word,  it  remains  indubitably 
true  that  his  mind  was  essentially  Machiavellian.  To 
follow,  then,  the  incidents  of  Dryden's  Laureateship  is 
hardly  inspiriting,  since  the  most  vivid  impression  we 
gain  is  that  of  a  man  of  rare  poetical  gifts  allying 
himself  with  fluid  conviction  and  cupidity. 

Dryden  succeeded  to  the  Laureateship  on  D'Avenant's 
death  in  1668,  though  the  appointment  was  not  officially 
ratified  till  two  years  later.  It  wiU  be  necessary,  how- 
ever, in  order  to  bring  out  clearly  his  relationship  to  the 
office,  to  outline  the  salient  features  of  his  history  from 
the  year  1657,  when,  fresh  from  his  studies  at  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  he  settled  in  London  as  secretary  to 
his  cousin,  Sir  Gilbert  Pickering,  a  zealous  Puritan  and 
a  member  of  Cromwell's  council. 

It  was  in  accord  with  the  fitness  of  things  that  Dryden 
should  commence  his  career  under  Puritan  auspices. 
By  birth,  training,  and  family  ties,  he  was  closely  con- 
nected with  the  cause  of  the  Commonwealth.  His 
father,  his  uncle  (Sir  John  Dryden),  and  his  cousin  (Sir 
Gilbert  Pickering)  were  all  staunch  Puritans,  and  had 
been  prominently  identified  with  the  policy  of  Crom- 
well. In  1657  the  supporters  of  the  Commonwealth 
were  still  in  the  ascendancy,  and,  superficially  at  all 
events,  it  looked  as  if  the  principles  they  espoused  would 
maintain  their  ground  for  many  years  to  come.  No 
fault  can  be  found  with  Drj^den  for  casting  in  his  lot 
with  the  Puritans.  It  was  the  natural  thing  to  do  ; 
and,  in  commending  his  prudence,  we  need  not  impugn 
his  sincerity.  A  year  later,  however,  the  whole  situa- 
tion was  changed.     Cromwell  was  dead,  and  his  unstable 


\ 


58  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

son,  Richard,  had  entered  on  his  brief  and  inglorious 
Protectorship.  Dryden's  allegiance  to  the  Puritan  cause, 
however,  remained  unshaken.  This  was  plainly  shown 
by  the  fact  that  on  learning  of  Cromwell's  death,  he 
indited  Heroic  Stanzas,  "  consecrated  to  the  glorious 
memory  of  his  Most  Serene  and  Renowned  Highness, 
Oliver,  late  Lord  Protector  of  this  Commonwealth." 
This,  the  first  notable  poem  that  Dryden  wrote,  is 
certainly  not  lacking  in  veneration  for  the  Puritan  leader. 

His  grandeur  he  derived  from  heaven  alone  ; 

For  he  was  great,  ere  fortune  made  him  so  ; 
And  wars,  Uke  mists  that  rise  against  the  sun. 

Made  him  but  greater  seem,  not  greater  grow. 

Such  was  our  prince  ;  yet  owned  a  soul  above 
The  highest  acts  it  could  produce  to  show  : 

Thus,  poor  mechanic  arts  in  public  move, 
Whilst  the  deep  secrets  beyond  practice  go. 

Nor  died  he  when  his  ebbing  fame  went  less. 
But  when  fresh  laurels  courted  him  to  live  : 

He  seemed  but  to  prevent  some  new  success. 
As  if  above  what  triumphs  earth  could  give. 

His  ashes  in  a  peaceful  urn  shall  rest  ; 

His  name  a  great  example  stands,  to  show, 
How  strangely  high  endeavours  may  be  blessed, 

Where  piety  and  valour  jointly  go. 

Johnson  thought  these  verses  superior  to  those  of  Sprat 
and  Waller  on  the  same  theme,  and  "  sufficient  to  raise 
great  expectations  of  the  rising  poet."  ^  In  the  day  of 
high  prosperity,  when  he  was  being  idolised  by  the 
Court  of  Charles  II,  Dryden  would  fain  have  forgotten 
his  glowing  panegyric  of  Cromwell  ;  but  his  enemies, 
wishing  to  reveal  the  measure  of  his  apostasy,  reprinted 
it  as  a  broadsheet.  ^ 

Dryden,  then,  on  the  very  eve  of  the  Restoration  was 

'  See  Dryden  essay,  Lives  of  the  Poets. 
'  Malone's  Dryden,  i,  44. 


JOHN   DRYDEN  59 

an  ultra-Puritan  in  the  political,  if  not  in  the  religious, 
sense.  When  he  wrote  the  line  about  Cromwell's  ashes 
resting  in  "  a  peaceful  urn,"  he  little  knew  that  in  less 
than  two  years  the  Stuart  cause  would  again  be 
triumphant,  and  that  the  headless  body  of  his  late 
leader  would  be  dangling  from  the  gallows  at  Tyburn. 
But  events  were  moving  with  ominous  rapidity,  and 
Dryden  was  still  receiving  Puritan  homage  for  his  eulogy 
of  Cromwell  when  the  political  upheaval  occurred,  and 
he  was  called  upon  to  make  trial  of  his  constancy. 

Dryden's  fortunes  were  now  at  their  lowest.  His 
party  had  suffered  irretrievable  disaster,  his  patron  and 
relative,  Sir  Gilbert  Pickering  (who  was  numbered 
among  the  regicides),  and  his  uncle,  Sir  John  Dryden, 
were  both  in  hiding,  and  had  no  reason  to  expect  the 
slightest  act  of  clemency,  while  he  himself  was  poor  and 
unknown.  If  Shadwell,  his  future  antagonist  and  suc- 
cessor in  the  Laureateship,  is  to  be  believed,  Dryden  at 
this  time  "  lived  in  a  lodging  with  a  window  no  bigger 
than  a  pocket  looking-glass,  and  dined  at  a  three-penny 
ordinary,  enough  to  starve  a  vacation  tailor."  Shadwell 
further  enlightens  us  in  the  Medal  of  John  Bayes — 

He  turned  a  journeyman  to  a  bookseller  ; 
Writ  prefaces  to  books  for  meat  and  drink, 
And  as  it  paid,  he  would  both  write  and  think. 

How,  then,  did  Dryden  comport  himself  ?  With  a 
cynical  indifference  to  appearances,  he  proclaimed  to  all 
whom  it  might  concern  that  he  was  prepared  to  change 
his  principles  as  he  changed  his  clothes,  that  it  was  in  no 
disaccord  with  loyalty  and  consistency  that  a  man 
should  repudiate  his  party  in  the  day  of  adversity  and 
curry  favour  with  its  victorious  rival.  He  had  pane- 
gyrized Cromwell  and  republicanism,  but  now  that  both 
had  disappeared  beyond  hope  of  resurrection,  he  would 
panegyrize  Charles  H  and  monarchy.     Scott  dexterously 


60  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

evades  the  problem  of  conduct  raised  by  the  transference 
of  Dryden's  allegiance  from  the  Puritans  to  the  Royalists, 
and  merely  remarks  that  "  Dryden,  left  to  his  own 
exertions,  hastened  to  testify  his  joyful  acquiescence  in 
the  restoration  of  monarchy,  by  publishing  Astraea 
Redux." '^  Johnson,  another  Tory  apologist,  contents 
himself  by  saying  that  if  the  poet  changed,  he  changed 
with  the  nation. 

But  surely  nothing  can  palliate  such  baseness  as 
Dryden  was  guilty  of.  Within  two  years  of  the  publica- 
tion of  his  Heroic  Stanzas,  he  was  winning  applause  as 
the  author  of  Astraea  Redux,  "  a  poem  on  the  Happy 
Restoration  and  Return  of  his  Sacred  Majesty,  Charles 
the  Second."  To  have  written  this  poem  was  bad 
enough  ;  but  that  Dryden  should  have  gone  out  of  his 
way  to  sneer  at  Cromwell  and  his  work,  and  to  compare 
the  Restoration  to  God's  guidance  of  Moses,  and  the 
profligate  Charles  to  a  heaven-sent  deliverer,  was  to 
stand  convicted  of  turpitude.  In  1661,  there  followed 
the  verses  entitled,  A  Panegyric  to  his  Sacred  Majesty, 
which  equals,  if  it  does  not  excel,  the  nauseous  laudation 
of  Astraea  Redux. 

Following  up  the  success  won  by  his  two  poems  on 
the  restored  monarchy,  Dryden  now  strove  sedulously 
to  gain  a  footing  at  Court.  This  was  not  so  difficult  as 
might  have  been  expected  in  the  case  of  a  man  with 
Dryden's  antecedents.  Charles  was  not  a  hard  task- 
master where  morality  was  concerned,  and  he  was 
graciously  pleased  to  ignore  Dryden's  past  and  to  believe 
that  the  sentiments  expressed  in  A  straea  Redux  were  the 
outpourings  of  a  contrite  heart.  So  he  became  the 
patron  of  the  young  poet,  and  when  D'Avenant  died  in 
1668,  he  installed  him  as  Poet  Laureate.  He  also  gave 
him  the  post  of  Historiographer  Royal,  Letters  Patent 

Dryden  :     Works,  ed.  Saintsbury,  i,  42. 


JOHN   DRYDEN  61 

combining  the  two  offices  being  issued  in  1670.  They 
were  bestowed,  in  the  words  of  the  Patent,  "  in  considera- 
tion of  the  many  good  and  acceptable  services  by  John 
Dryden  ...  to  us  heretofore  done  and  performed  .  .  . 
of  his  learning  and  eminent  abilities  .  .  .  and  of  his 
great  skill  and  elegant  style  both  in  verse  and  prose." 
It  was  decreed  that  the  offices  should  carry  with  them 
"  one  annuity  or  yearly  pension  of  two  hundred  pounds 
...  to  have  and  to  hold  .  .  .  from  the  death  of  Sir 
William  D'Avenant  lately  deceased  "  ;  also  "  one  butt 
or  pipe  of  the  best  Canary  wine."  A  few  years  later 
Dryden  received  an  additional  salary  of  ;^100  a  year. 

But  the  Laureateship  was  not  so  pecuniarily  advan- 
tageous as  it  seemed,  for  the  allowance  was  paid  irreg- 
ularly, and  in  1684  was  four  years  in  arrear.  This  may 
account  in  some  measure  for  the  perfunctory  manner  in 
which  Dryden  discharged  his  duties.  Several  short 
poems  flattering  the  monarchs  whom  he  served  practically 
sums  up  his  labours  as  Court  poet.  Nevertheless,  the 
Laureateship  was  not  without  its  value.  It  gave  him 
prestige.  It  brought  him  the  favour  of  the  King  and 
the  patronage  of  noble  lords,  which  meant  a  great  deal 
to  one  who  relied  mainly  for  his  living  on  writing  for 
the  stage. 

Dryden  had  hardly  been  installed  as  Poet  Laureate 
when  he  was  fiercely  assailed  by  his  enemies.  In  1671 
a  play  entitled.  The  Rehearsal  was  produced.  The 
ostensible  author  was  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whom 
Dryden  afterwards  immortalised  as  Zimri  in  Absalom 
and  Achitophel — 

Some  of  their  chiefs  were  princes  of  the  land  : 
In  the  first  rank  of  these  did  Zimri  stand  ; 
A  man  so  various  that  he  seemed  to  be 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome  : 
Stiff  in  opinions,  always  in  the  ^vrong, 
Was  everything  by  starts,  and  nothing  long. 


G2  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Buckingham,  who  is  said  to  have  received  help  from 
Butler,  author  of  Hudibras,  Sprat,  and  others,  originally 
intended  that  Bayes,  the  hero,  should  represent 
D'Avenant,  but  after  that  poet's  death  he  assigned  the 
character  to  Dryden.  Bayes  became  the  nickname  ol 
the  new  Laureate  whose  plays.  The  Indian  Emperor  and 
The  Conquest  of  Granada,  were  travestied  in  Bucking- 
ham's Rehearsal.  The  piece  also  contained  an  allusion 
to  his  intrigue  with  Ann  Reeve,  one  of  the  actresses. 
Furthermore,  the  actor  of  Bayes  imitated  the  Laureate's 
appearance  and  gestures,  mimicked  his  voice,  made  fun 
of  his  foibles,  and  parodied  the  popular  passages  of  his 
rhyming  tragedies.  Dryden's  equanimity,  however,  was 
not  disturbed,  for  he  had  the  knack  of  lessening,  says 
Johnson,  "  the  smart  of  his  wounds  by  the  balm  of  his 
own  approbation."  1  He  treated  the  farce  with  silent 
contempt,  though  a  day  came  when  he  admitted  that  its 
ridicule  was  not  wholly  undeserved. 

But  Elkanah  Settle's  Empress  of  Morocco  did  what 
The  Rehearsal  failed  to  do :  it  made  the  Laureate 
furious.  There  were  good  reasons  for  this  undignified 
denouement.  Settle,  a  person  "  utterly  contemptible," 
to  use  Scott's  phrase,  was  Dryden's  chief  rival,  being  a 
favourite  among  the  younger  literary  fry.  He  had 
achieved  some  success  as  a  dramatist,  and  when  the 
Empress  of  Morocco,  which  contained  a  disparaging 
reference  to  the  Laureate,  was  produced  in  1673,  it  was 
acted  "  with  unanimous  and  overpowering  applause  for 
a  month  together."  ^  This  was  as  wormwood  and  gall 
to  Dryden.  But  what  incensed  him  most  was  that 
Settle's  patron,  the  Earl  of  Rochester,  should  have  had 
the  tragedy  acted  at  Whitehall  by  the  lords  and  ladies 
of  the  Court,  an  honour  which  had  not  been  paid  to 

»   Lives  of  the  Poets.     Hill's  ed.,  i,  370-1. 
*  Dryden  :    Works,  ed.  Saintsbury,  i,   156. 


JOHN   DRYDEN  63 

him,  despite  his  official  position  as  royal  poet.  More- 
over, Settle  had  the  effrontery  to  describe  himselt 
on  the  title-page  of  his  play  as  "  Servant  to  his 
Majesty." 

This  was  more  than  Dryden  could  stand.  Summoning 
the  aid  of  Shadwell  and  Crowne,  he  proceeded  forthwith 
to  pour  out  the  phials  of  his  wrath  upon  the  hapless 
head  of  Elkanah.  In  a  scurrilous  pamphlet.  Settle  is 
described  as  "an  animal  of  a  most  deplored  under- 
standing, without  conversation.  ...  He  has  a  heavy 
hand  at  fools,  and  a  great  facility  in  writing  nonsense  for 
them.  .  .  .  His  King,  his  two  Empresses,  his  Villain, 
and  his  Sub- Villain,  nay,  his  Hero,  have  all  a  certain 
natural  cast  of  the  father — their  folly  was  born  and  bred 
in  them,  and  something  of  the  Elkanah  will  be  visible." 
That  a  poet  with  the  genius  of  Dryden  should  demean 
himself  by  indulging  in  such  personalities  concerning  a 
miserable  poetaster,  shows  that  his  character  was  by  no 
means  on  a  level  with  his  ability.  "  To  see,"  says 
Johnson,  "  the  highest  mind  thus  levelled  with  the 
meanest  may  produce  some  solace  to  the  consciousness 
of  weakness,  and  some  mortification  to  the  pride  of 
wisdom."  1  But  Dryden  had  not  wounded  his  adversary  : 
he  had  only  become  the  victim  of  impotent  rage.  Settle 
replied  in  a  quarto  pamphlet  of  ninety-five  pages,  in 
which  he  showed  himself  as  coarse  and  waspish  as  the 
Laureate. 

A  literary  feud  in  Dryden's  day  was  a  serious  matter, 
for  sometimes  the  contestants  did  not  rest  satisfied  with 
wordy  warfare,  but  proceeded  to  blows.  One  winter 
night,  in  the  year  1679,  when  returning  from  Will's 
coffee-house,  the  Poet  Laureate  was  set  upon  by  ruffians 
and  badly  mauled.  The  instigator  of  the  assault  is 
supposed  to  have  been  the  Earl  of  Rochester,  once  the 

*  Lives  of  the  Poets.     (Essay  on  Dryden.) 


64  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

friend  and  patron  of  Dryden,  but  now  his  intractable 
enemy.  Rochester,  who,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
was  instrumental  in  having  Settle's  Empress  of  Morocco 
performed  at  Court,  was  enraged  by  an  attack  on  him- 
self in  Mulgrave's  Essay  on  Satire  (1675),  which  he 
wrongly  ascribed  to  Dryden.  The  Earl  vowed  vengeance, 
mentioning  in  a  letter  that  he  should  "  leave  the  repartee 
to  Black  Will  with  a  cudgel."  Scott  concurs  in  the  view 
that  the  assault  was  the  corollary  of  this  threat  ;  but 
whether  Rochester  actually  conspired  to  do  Dryden 
personal  injury  is  problematical.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
the  Poet  Laureate  played  a  part  in  this  episode  as 
honourable  as  his  conduct  in  the  controversy  with  Settle 
was  contemptible.  Though  he  had  had  severe  provoca- 
tion, he  showed  no  vindictiveness.  On  the  contrary, 
he  went  so  far  as  to  mention  Rochester  with  respect  in 
the  Essay  prefixed  to  the  translation  of  Juvenal. 

Dryden's  talent  for  literary  conflict  was  now  to  be 
exercised  on  a  larger  scale.  It  was  a  time  of  political 
unrest.  There  were  plots  and  counter  plots,  and  the 
spirit  of  all  uncharitableness  was  abroad.  Monmouth, 
as  the  "  Protestant  Duke,"  had  been  put  forward  by 
the  scheming  Shaftesbury  in  opposition  to  the  Duke  of 
York,  the  popish  heir-presumptive,  and,  as  a  result  of 
the  Popish  Plot,  the  Exclusion  Bill,  and  two  semi-royal 
progresses,  he  had  become  extremely  popular  with  the 
Protestants.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Court  policy 
towards  Monmouth  led  to  attacks  on  Charles  II  and  his 
brother,  James,  Whig  rhymers  and  pamphleteers  pouring 
forth  torrents  of  violent  invective.  Clearly  someone  was 
wanted  to  champion  the  cause  of  the  Crown,  and  the 
King  naturally  looked  to  the  Poet  Laureate,  who  was 
now  as  thoroughgoing  a  defender  of  monarchy  as  he 
had  been  once  of  the  principles  of  the  Commonwealth. 

Conscious  of  his  power  to  wage  effective  satirical  war. 


JOHN   DRYDEN  65 

and  eager  for  an  encounter  with  his  old  adversaries — 
Settle  and  Buckingham — and  his  more  recent  one, 
Shadwell,  all  of  whom  belonged  to  Monmouth's  party, 
Dryden  engaged  with  a  light  heart  in  the  hazardous 
experiment  of  uniting  poetry  with  politics.  He  wished, 
too,  to  refute  a  statement  which  had  been  widely  circu- 
lated to  the  effect  that  he  was  not  only  in  sympathy  with 
Monmouth,  but  was  the  tool  of  Shaftesbury,  one 
calumniator  even  representing  him  as  Poet  Laureate 
to  that  master  of  Machiavellian  statecraft.  ^  Possibly 
the  dedication  of  The  Spanish  Friar,  in  which  Dryden 
recommended  "  a  Protestant  play  to  a  Protestant 
patron,"  was  responsible  for  the  rumour.  At  any  rate, 
it  was  instantly  dispelled  by  the  publication,  in  1681,  of 
the  greatest  satire  in  the  English  tongue — Absalom  and 
Achitophel. 

The  poem,  which,  according  to  Nahum  Tate,  was 
suggested  by  Charles  himself,  created  an  immense  sensa- 
tion. "  The  greatest  satire  of  modern  times,"  says 
Macaulay,  "  had  amazed  the  town,  had  made  its  way 
with  unprecedented  rapidity  even  into  rural  districts, 
and  had,  wherever  it  appeared,  bitterly  annoyed  the 
Exclusionists,  and  raised  the  courage  of  the  Tories."  ^ 
In  short,  it  was  felt  that  Dryden  was  more  than  a  match 
for  all  the  scribblers  arrayed  against  him. 

To  dilate  upon  the  merits  of,  or  quote  from,  a  poem 
which  constitutes  a  landmark  in  English  literature  would 
be  superfluous.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  masterly 
portrait  of  Shaftesbury,  the  "  false  Achitophel," 

A  name  to  all  succeeding  ages  cuist  ; 
For  close  designs  and  crooked  counsels  fit, 
Sagacious,  bold,  and  turbulent  of  wit, 
Restless,  unfixed  in  principles  and  place, 

1  Somer's   Tracts,  1812,  viii,  317. 

*   History  of  England.    Pop.  ed,,  i,  198. 

5— (2341) 


\ 


66  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

has  done  more  to  stamp  that  crafty  pohtician  with 
unenviable  distinction  than  all  the  overt  acts  of  his 
tortuous  and  lawless  career. 

The  success  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel  was  instantan- 
eous. Johnson's  father,  who  was  a  bookseller  at  the 
time,  could  recall  no  work  which  had  had  so  enormous 
a  sale  except  the  reports  of  Sacheverell's  trial  in  the 
reign  of  Anne.  The  poem  spurred  the  Whig  poets  to 
fresh  endeavour,  particularly  those  who  were  smarting 
under  the  lash  of  Dryden's  withering  satire.  Two  of 
the  most  scurrilous  lampoons  bore  the  Scriptural  titles 
of  Azaria  and  Hushai  and  Absalom  Senior.  The  former 
was  by  Samuel  Pordage  ;  the  latter  Dryden  evidently 
attributed  to  Settle,  for,  in  ridiculing  him  in  the  Second 
Part  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  he  quotes  the  second 
line  of  the  poem — 

Who  makes  heaven's  gate  a  lock  to  its  own  key. 

When  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  invested  with  all  the 
charm  of  novelty,  was  being  read  everywhere,  an  event 
occurred  which  gave  a  fresh  impetus  to  the  campaign  of 
satire,  and  enabled  Dryden  to  score  another  triumph. 
Shaftesbury,  whose  machinations  on  behalf  of  Monmouth 
had  led  to  his  imprisonment  in  the  Tower,  was  now 
released,  the  grand  jury  refusing  to  find  a  bill  of  high 
treason  against  him.  The  popular  party  was  jubilant, 
and  to  mark  the  event  a  medal  was  struck  on  which  was 
inscribed  the  head  and  name  of  Shaftesbury.  This 
incident  infuriated  the  Court,  and  Charles  himself  is 
credited  with  having  suggested  the  medal  to  the 
Laureate  as  a  fitting  theme  for  another  satire. 

To  a  poet  of  less  resource,  the  royal  command  to  write 
upon  a  character  he  had  already  so  mercilessly  scourged 
might,  as  Scott  remarks,  have  proved  somewhat  embar- 
rassing.    But  Dryden,  conscious  of  his  complete  mastery 


JOHN   DRYDEN  67 

of  the  art,  responded  at  once.  In  1682  appeared 
anonymously,  The  Medal,  a  Satire  against  Sedition,  in 
which  the  apostasy  and  shortcomings  of  Shaftesbury, 
whom  Charles  declared  to  be  "  the  wickedest  dog  in 
England,"  were  handled  with  remorseless  severity. 

Again  the  Whig  scribes  came  to  the  rescue,  and  in 
lampoons  in  which  the  abuse  was  out  of  all  proportion 
to  the  wit,  they  fulminated  against  their  victorious 
adversary,  raked  up  his  past,  and  taunted  him  with 
being  a  renegade  Puritan  and  Republican.  Buckingham 
("  Zimri  ")  published  Reflections  on  Absalom  and  Achito- 
phel ;  Pordage,  The  Medal  Reversed  (erroneously  attri- 
buted by  Johnson  to  Settle)  ;  and  Shadwell,  The  Medal 
of  John  Bayes.  There  also  appeared  The  Loyal  Medal 
Vindicated  and  Dryden's  Satire  to  his  Muse,  the  latter 
imputed  to  Lord  Somers,  who,  however,  disavowed  it 
to  Pope.  But  these  productions  were  powerless  to 
weaken  the  impression  made  by  Dryden's  two  great 
satires.  ^ 

The  Laureate,  whose  fertility  seemed  inexhaustible, 
now  turned  his  attention  to  Shadwell,  who,  in  The  Medal 
of  John  Bayes,  had  charged  Drj^den  with  gross  crimes. 
Shadwell,  of  whom  more  will  be  said  in  the  next  chapter, 
was  originally  a  friend  of  Dryden,  who  had  furnished  a 
prologue  to  the  former's  play.  The  True  Widow ;  but 
divergent  views  concerning  the  nature  and  function  of 
comedy  had,  among  other  matters,  caused  them  to  drift 
apart,  with  the  result  that  they  were  now  not  only 
literary  rivals,  but  violent  political  antagonists.  Dryden 
was  particularly  offended  by  Shadwell's  attack  on  his 
play,  Aurengzebe,  and  by  his  rude  jest  in  the  preface  to 
The  Virtuoso,  that  he  wanted  nothing  but  a  pension  to 
enable  him  to  write  as  well  as  the  Poet  Laureate. 

Dryden,  therefore,  braced  himself  for  a  satire  which 
should  overwhelm  Shadwell.     The  result  of  his  cogitations 


68  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

was  the  appearance,  in  1682,  of  MacFlecknoe,  or  a 
Satire  on  the  True  Blue  Protestant  Poet,  T.S.,  "  by  the 
Author  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel."  Shadwell  is  repre- 
sented as  the  adopted  son  of  Richard  Flecknoe,  an 
Irish  poetaster,  who 

In  prose  and  verse  was  owned,   without  dispute, 
Through  all  the  realms  of  Nonsense  absolute. 

Flecknoe  ponders, 

Which  of  all  his  sons  was  fit 
To  reign  and  wage  immortal  war  with  Wit, 

and  then  decides  that  his  choice  should  fall  on  the  one 
who  most  resembled  him.     Shadwell  is  chosen,  for  he 

Alone  my  perfect  image  bears, 
Mature  in   dullness  from  his  tender  years  : 
Shadwell  alone  of  all  my  sons  is  he 
Who  stands  confirmed  in  full  stupidity. 
The  rest  to  some  faint  meaning  make  pretence  ; 
But  Shadwell  never  deviates  into  sense. 

Shadwell,  who  was  not  easily  perturbed,  was  thoroughly 
roused  by  MacFlecknoe,  though  his  obtuseness  merci- 
fully prevented  him  from  fully  appreciating  Dryden's 
wit.  He  interpreted  the  poem  literally,  and  thought  he 
had  scored  a  point  by  showing  that  Dryden  had 
erroneously  represented  him  as  an  Irishman  ;  so  true  is  it, 
as  Scott  says,  "  that  a  knavish  speech  sleeps  in  a 
foolish  ear."  ^ 

MacFlecknoe,  which,  it  is  interesting  to  recall.  Pope 
took  as  the  model  of  The  Dunciad,  was  quickly  followed 
by  the  Second  Part  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel  (1682), 
containing  sketches  of  the  minor  Whig  poets.  The  satire 
was  largely  written  by  Nahum  Tate,  but  Dryden  con- 
tributed more  than  200  lines,  and  probably  revised  the 
whole.  In  any  case,  it  was  his  work  that  gave  vitality 
to  the  poem,  for  Tate,  as  we  shall  see  later  on,  was  one 

'  Dryden  :     Works,  ed.  Saintsbury,  i,  222. 


JOHN   DRYDEN  69 

of  the  feeblest  of  poets.  Shadwell,  in  the  character  of 
"  Og,"  is  again  severely  handled,  and  Settle,  as  "  Doeg," 
also  receives  condign  chastisement.  The  latter,  whose 
hatred  of  Dryden  was  such  that  Johnson  suggested  as 
an  appropriate  inscription  for  his  tombstone,  the  words  : 
"  Here  lies  the  Rival  and  Antagonist  of  Dryden,"  had 
materially  increased  the  sum  of  his  offence  by  the 
following  allusion  to  the  Laureate  in  the  prologue  to 
The  Emperor  of  Morocco — 

How  finely  would  the  sparks  be  caught  to-day. 

Should  a  Whig  poet  write  a  Tory  play, 

And  you,  possessed  with  rage  before,  should  send 

Your  random  shot  abroad  and  maul  a  friend  ? 

For  you,  we  find,  too  often  hiss  and  clap. 

Just  as  you  live,  speak,  think,  and  fight — by  hap. 

And  poets,  we  all  know,  can  change,  like  you, 

And  are  alone  to  their  own  interest  true  ; 

Can  write  against  all  sense,  nay  even  their  own  : 

The  vehicle  called  pension  makes  it  down. 

No  fear  of  cudgels,  where  there's  hope  of  bread  ; 

A  well-filled  paunch  forgets  a  broken  head.  ^ 

No  wonder  that  Dryden's  wrath  was  kindled  to  a  white 
heat,  for  Elkanah  had  certainly  laid  bare  a  vulnerable 
point. 

The  Laureate  was  now  at  the  height  of  his  power  and 
influence.  By  his  satirical  trilogy,  he  had  brilliantly 
upheld  the  cause  of  the  Court,  vanquished  his  literary 
rivals,  and  established  himself  as  the  premier  English 
man  of  letters  of  his  age.  Popularity  had  also  attended 
his  work  as  a  playwright.  But,  despite  it  all,  Dryden 
had  his  troubles.  His  earnings  were  nowise  commensur- 
ate with  his  renown.  Honour  and  flattery  he  had,  but 
not  decent  comfort.  Verily,  Settle  need  not  have 
upbraided  him  on  the  score  of  his  pension,  for  it  existed 
more  in  name  than  in  reality.  In  the  days  of  the 
"  Merry  Monarch,"  the  granting  of  a  pension  was  not 

^  An  allusion  to  the  Rochester  incident. 


70  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

always  equivalent  to  receiving  it.  Anyhow,  Dryden's 
resources  at  this  time  were  so  low  that  he  piteously 
solicited  a  half-year's  salary.  "  It  is  enough,"  he  wrote, 
"  for  one  age  to  have  neglected  Mr.  Cowley  and  starved 
Mr.  Butler."  This  appeal  seems  to  have  extorted  £75, 
but  whether  it  resulted  in  the  more  punctual  payment 
of  his  emoluments  as  Laureate  and  Historiographer  may 
be  left  to  conjecture.  In  1683  he  was  appointed  Col- 
lector of  Customs  in  the  Port  of  London,  but  here,  again, 
it  is  impossible  to  say  what  monetary  gain  accrued  to 
Dryden. 

In  one  of  his  odes  to  Charles,  the  Laureate  artfully 
insinuated  that  all  the  encouragement  he  had  received 
was  "  the  pension  of  a  prince's  praise."  But,  however 
much  Dryden  might  resent  the  shabby  treatment  of  the 
Court,  his  admiration  of  Charles  never  waned.  He 
composed  an  opera,  Albion  and  Albanius,  to  commemo- 
rate the  King's  political  successes,  and  he  refers  to 
another  opera.  King  Arthur,  as  being  "  the  last  piece  of 
service  which  I  had  the  honour  to  do  for  my  gracious 
master.  King  Charles  II."  ^  The  dedication  of  this 
work  contains  an  adulatory  notice  of  the  King's  character. 
"  Let  his  human  frailties,"  he  concludes,  "  be  forgotten, 
and  his  clemency  and  moderation  [the  inherent  virtues  of 
his  family)  be  remembered  with  a  grateful  veneration."  ^ 
Dryden  wrote  a  funeral  ode,  entitled  Threnodia  Augnstalis, 
in  which  occurs  the  following  impious  lines — 

False  heroes,  made  by  flattery  so, 
Heaven  can  strike  out  like  sparkles,  at  a  blow  ; 
But  ere  a  prince  is  to  perfection  brought, 
He  costs  Omnipotence  a  second  thought. 

The  Laureate,  however,  was  careful  not  to  pitch  his  ode 
in    too    threnodial    a    key.     Having    extolled    the    dead 

*  Works,  viii,  129. 

*  Ibid.,  viii,   131. 


JOHN  DRYDEN  71 

Charles  in  a  strain  which  certainly  gives  point  to 
Johnson's  remark  that  Dryden  made  flattery  too  cheap, 
he  passes  jauntily  to  the  more  congenial  topic  of  the 
living  James,  whose  regal  qualities  are  superlatively 
praised. 

Shortly  after  the  accession  of  the  new  King,  Dryden 
became  a  Roman  Catholic.  The  motives  which  prompted 
this  step  are  obscure,  and  have  been  the  subject  of  more 
controversy  than  any  other  episode  in  the  poet's  career. 
At  the  commencement  of  his  reign,  James  reappointed 
Dryden  to  the  three  offices  which  he  had  held  under 
Charles,  though  his  desire  for  rigid  economy  took  the 
amazing  form  of  refusing  the  annual  butt  of  Canary  wine, 
which  had  been  hitherto  a  perquisite  of  the  Laureateship. 
James,  however,  did  not  renew  the  extra  pension  of 
£100  a  year  granted  by  Charles  until  the  Laureate  had 
been  received  into  the  Roman  communion.  Hence  an 
all-important  question  is  raised  :  Did  Dryden  become  a 
convert  to  a  religion  he  had  previously  attacked  in 
order  to  reap  a  pecuniary  advantage  ? 

Johnson  and  Scott,  who  were  in  sympathy  with 
Dryden's  Toryism,  are  advocates  of  his  sincerity.  The 
former  adroitly  dismisses  the  subject  with  the  remark 
that  "  inquiries  into  the  heart  are  not  for  man  "  ;  while 
the  latter  concludes  that  Dryden,  by  allying  himself 
"  to  the  communion  of  a  falling  sect,  loaded,  too,  at  the 
time  with  heavy  disqualifications,"  was,  from  the  date 
of  his  conversion,  "  a  serious  and  sincere  Roman 
Catholic."  ^  Macaulay,  on  the  other  hand,  has  no 
doubt  that  Dryden's  change  of  religion  was  venal. 
"  Finding  that,  if  he  continued  to  call  himself  a  Pro- 
testant, his  services  would  be  overlooked,  he  declared 
himself  a  Papist."  ^     Professor  Saintsbury,  in  a  lengthy 

^  Dryden  :     Works,  ed.  Saintsbury,  i,  270. 
*   History  of  England.     Pop,  ed.,  i,  424. 


72  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

editorial  note  to  Scott's  memoir  of  Dry  den,  says  that 
Macaulay  mistook  the  extra  pension  bestowed  by 
Charles  for  "  an  original  one  granted  in  payment  of 
apostasy,"  but  this  is  by  no  means  clear.  The  Whig 
historian's  words  are  :  "A  pension  of  a  hundred  a  year 
which  had  been  given  to  him  by  Charles,  and  had 
expired  with  Charles,  was  not  renewed."  ^  But,  even 
supposing  the  historian  erred,  no  valid  objection,  as 
Professor  Saintsbury  himself  admits,  can  be  urged 
against  the  supposition  that  apostasy  was  made  a 
condition  of  the  renewal.  "  There  will  always  be," 
Macaulay  truly  observes,  "  a  strong  presumption  against 
the  sincerity  of  a  conversion  by  which  the  convert  is 
directly  a  gainer."  ^    And  Dryden  was  a  gainer. 

The  circumstances  attending  his  conversion  are  signi- 
ficant. James  was  a  fanatical  Romanist,  and  it  may  be 
safely  concluded  that  he  would  look  with  no  great  favour, 
possibly  with  positive  aversion,  on  an  officer  of  his  house- 
hold who  had  publicly  attacked  his  religion.  As  the 
author  of  The  Spanish  Friar,  which  satirised  the  priest- 
hood, and  of  the  Religio  Laid,  which  defended  the 
Church  of  England  against  the  sectaries,  it  is  obvious 
that  the  position  of  the  Laureate  would  have  been 
rendered  very  uncomfortable  without  recantation  in 
some  shape  or  form.  Now  what  happened  was  this  : 
On  19th  January,  1686,  Evelyn  recorded  in  his  Diary 
that  Dryden,  with  his  two  sons  and  "  Mrs.  Nelly " 
(Nell  Gwjmn  !)  were  going  to  mass.  "  Such  proselytes," 
quaintly  added  the  diarist,  "  were  no  great  loss  to  the 
Church."  Six  weeks  later,  on  4th  March,  1686,  Letters 
Patent  were  issued  restoring  the  extra  pension  granted 
by  Charles,  the  said  pension  to  date  from  the  beginning 
of   the  new  reign.     That   so   avaricious   a   monarch   as 

'  History  of  England.     Pop.  ed.,  i,  424. 
»    Ibid  .  i,  425. 


JOHN   DRYDEN  73 

James  should  restore  a  lapsed  pension  without  sub- 
stantial reasons  is  inconceivable  ;  and  the  acceptance 
by  Dry  den  of  the  Romish  faith  was  just  one  of  those 
acts  that  were  most  likely  to  awaken  in  him  a  generous 
impulse. 

The  tenor  of  Dryden's  later  life  only  serves  to 
strengthen  the  view  that  his  sincerity  in  becoming  a 
Roman  Catholic  is  open  to  grave  suspicion.  Scott 
devotes  much  space  to  tracing  the  history  of  the  poet's 
belief  ;  but  if  we  would  arrive  at  a  just  estimate  of  his 
conversion,  we  must  pay  more  regard  to  conduct  than 
to  belief.  Now,  the  Laureate  fares  badly  in  this  respect. 
His  character  was  far  from  being  irreproachable.  No 
one  would  gather  from  his  plays  that  he  was  interested 
in  the  promotion  of  sound  morality,  let  alone  religion. 
Nor  was  his  sense  of  self-respect  very  acute.  As  has 
already  been  noted,  he  was  capable  of  the  most 
unblushing  opportunism,  and  he  would  pour  out  any 
amount  of  adulatory  verse,  if  thereby  he  could  further 
his  own  interests. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  damaging  testimony  of 
Dr3'den's  past  life,  it  might  have  been  possible  to  argue 
the  sincerity  of  his  conversion  if  it  had  been  accompanied 
by  the  visible  fruits  of  righteousness.  A  change  of 
religion  usually  means  a  change  in  a  man's  whole  point 
of  view,  a  revolution  in  his  conduct.  There  is  no 
evidence  of  this  in  Dryden's  case.  The  truth  is,  as 
Macaulay  says,  that  "  the  dramas  which  he  wrote  after 
his  pretended  conversion  are  in  no  respect  less  impure 
or  profane  than  those  of  his  youth.  .  .  He  made  the 
grossest  satires  of  Juvenal  more  gross,  interpolated  loose 
descriptions  in  the  tales  of  Boccaccio,  and  polluted  the 
sweet  and  limpid  poetry  of  the  Georgics  with  filth  which 
would  have  moved  the  loathing  of  Virgil."  ^ 

*    History  of  England.     Pop.  ed.,  i,  425. 


74  THE   POETS    LAUREATE 

Once  relieved  from  his  embarrassing  position  and 
brought  into  harmony  with  the  faith  of  his  royal  patron, 
Dryden  lost  no  time  in  proving  himself  as  zealous  a 
champion  of  Romanism  as  he  had  been  once  of  the 
tenets  of  Cromwell.  James,  who  cared  nothing  for 
poetry,  thought  the  Laureate  would  be  better  employed 
in  defending  his  Church  in  prose.  Accordingly,  he  set 
him  to  answer  Stillingfleet,  who  had  assailed  two  papers 
left  by  Charles  II  containing,  says  Evelyn,  "  several 
arguments  opposite  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Church  of 
England."  James,  ever  anxious  to  gain  some  advan- 
tage for  his  Church,  published  these  papers,  along  with 
one  written  by  his  (James's)  first  wife,  in  which  she 
justified  her  conversion.  But  Dryden,  great  master 
though  he  was  of  the  English  tongue,  knew  nothing  of 
theology.  That  he  should  fail,  therefore,  in  a  contest 
with  so  consummate  a  theologian  and  controversialist  as 
Stillingfleet  was  only  to  be  expected. 

The  Laureate  himself  was  conscious  that  he  was  no 
match  for  the  redoubtable  Churchman.  It  occurred  to 
him,  however,  that  if  he  could  not  effectually  defend  the 
Romish  faith  in  prose,  he  could  do  so  in  verse.  Actuated, 
therefore,  by  a  desire  to  serve  his  Church  with  distinction, 
and  to  show  that  the  poet  and  the  logician  might  success- 
fully be  combined,  he  wrote  in  hot  haste  The  Hind  and 
the  Panther  (1687),  in  which  the  Church  of  Rome,  repre- 
sented by  the  milk-white  Hind,  defends  her  doctrine 
against  the  Church  of  England,  betokened  by  the 
Panther,  a  beast  beautiful  but  spotted. 

The  poem,  however,  did  not  attain  to  the  success  of 
the  three  great  satires  of  his  earlier  years.  Nor  was 
this  surprising.  Even  if  Dryden's  scholarship  had  been 
above  suspicion,  the  allegorical  setting  of  the  poem  was 
quite  unsuited  to  the  theme  with  which  it  dealt.  The 
ludicrous  spectacle  of  a  hind  and  a  panther  discussing 


JOHN   DRYDEN  75 

knotty  theological  points  was  bound  to  excite  derision  ; 

and    Dryden    had    only   himself   to    blame    for    having 

originated  some  biting  satires. 

Montague,    afterwards    Earl    of    Halifax,    and    Prior 

published  a  parody,  entitled.  The  Country  Mouse  and  City 

Mouse.     Shadwell,    still    smarting    from    the    wounds 

inflicted  by  MacFlecknoe,  was  also  early  in  the  field,  but 

with  such  feeble  verse  that  the  Laureate  could  afford 

to  say — 

Losing  he  wins,  because  his  name  will  be 
Ennobled  by  defeat,  who  durst  contend  with  me. 

Another  assailant  was  Tom  Brown,  "  of  facetious 
memory,"  whose  studies  at  Oxford  are  remembered  by 
a  witty  extempore  adaptation  of  Martial's  epigram, 
Non  amo  te,  Sabidi :  "  I  do  not  love  thee.  Dr.  Fell." 
Under  the  name  of  Dudley  Tomkinson,  Brown  pub- 
lished three  dialogues.  One  was  called  Reasons  of  Mr. 
Bayes's  Changing  His  Religion,  while  another  bore  the 
title,  Reasons  of  Mr.  Hains  the  Player's  Conversion  and 
Re-Conversion.  Dryden  is  dubbed  "  little  Bayes "  ; 
and  in  one  of  the  dialogues,  Crites,  on  being  asked 
whether  he  had  seen  The  Hind  and  the  Panther,  replies — 

"  Seen  it,  Mr.  Bayes  !  Why  I  can  stir  nowhere  but  it  pursues 
me  .  .  .  Sometimes  I  meet  it  in  a  bandbox,  when  my  laundress 
brings  home  my  linen  ;  sometimes,  whether  I  will  or  no,  it  lights 
my  pipe  at  a  coffee-house  ;  soinetimes  it  surprises  me  in  a  trunk- 
maker's  shop  ;  and  sometimes  it  refreshes  my  memory  for  me 
on  the  back-side  of  a  Chancery  Lane  parcel.  For  your  comfort, 
too,  Mr.  Bayes,  I  have  not  only  seen  it,  as  you  may  perceive, 
but  have  read  it  too,  and  can  quote  it  as  freely  upon  occasion  as 
a  frugal  tradesman  can  quote  that  noble  treatise,  the  Worth  of  a 
Penny  to  his  extravagant  'prentice,  that  revels  in  cockale,  stewed 
apples,  and  penny  custards." 

Dryden  also  evinced  his  enthusiasm  for  his  new 
religion  b^'  translating  Bouhours's  Life  of  St.  Francis 
Xavier.  In  a  dedication  to  the  Queen,  he  points  out 
that   Bouhours   attributed   the   birth   of   Louis   XIV   to 


76  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Xavier's  intercession,  and  declares  that  Her  Majesty 
has  doubtless  "  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  such 
pious  prayers  have  not  been  unprofitable  to  you  ;  and 
the  nation  may  one  day  come  to  understand  how  happy 
it  will  be  for  them  to  have  a  son  of  prayers  ruling  over 
them."  An  heir  actually  appeared  in  1688,  and  the 
Laureate  signalised  the  event  in  Britannia  Rediviva,  a 
poem  which  contains  no  fewer  than  361  lines.  The 
new  bom  prince  is  thus  apostrophized — 

Hail,   son  of  prayers  !     by  holy  violence 
Drawn  down  from  heaven. 

Britannia  Rediviva  was  the  last  poem  which  Dryden 
wrote  as  Poet  Laureate.  A  few  months  later  the 
Revolution  swept  like  a  whirlwind  over  the  land,  leaving 
nothing  to  Dryden  but  blighted  hopes  and  aspirations. 
The  Revolution  of  1688  meant  not  only  the  triumph  of 
Protestantism,  but  the  victory  of  a  Whig  principle  which 
was  to  colour  English  poetry  and  philosophy  for  half  a 
century.  There  was,  therefore,  no  room  for  a  Poet 
Laureate  who  was  a  Tory  in  politics  and  a  Papist  in 
religion.  On  1st  August,  1689,  all  Dryden's  offices 
became  vacant  owing  to  his  inability  to  swear  the  oaths 
of  allegiance,  supremacy,  and  abjuration.  It  has  been 
crueUy  suggested  that,  having  regard  to  his  past,  Dryden 
would  probably  have  contemplated  a  return  to  the  Pro- 
testant fold,  had  it  been  represented  to  him  that  by  so 
doing  he  would  retain  his  offices.  To  have  done  so, 
would  have  been  to  part  with  the  last  shred  of  honour. 
Besides,  recantation  would  only  have  inspired  a  malignant 
hatred  among  his  co-religionists,  without  in  the  least 
pacifying  the  demands  of  his  new  masters.  Among  the 
first  acts  of  his  old  friend,  Buckhurst,  now  Earl  of 
Dorset,  in  his  capacity  as  Lord  Chamberlain,  was  the 
poignant  one  of  informing  Dryden  that  he  was  no  longer 


JOHN   DRYDEN  77 

Poet  Laureate.  Dorset,  however,  out  of  his  private 
purse,  generously  bestowed  on  the  deposed  poet  a  con- 
siderable benefaction.  The  amount,  according  to  Prior, 
was  equivalent  to  the  Laureate  pension  ;  but  there  is 
some  reason  to  doubt  this. 

Dryden  lived  for  twelve  years  after  his  deposition — a 
period  which  not  only  covered  the  brief  tenure  of  the 
Laureateship  of  his  successor — Shadwell — but  no  fewer 
than  nine  years  of  that  of  Shadwell's  successor — Nahum 
Tate — who,  as  has  already  been  mentioned,  collaborated 
with  Dryden  in  the  writing  of  the  Second  Part  of 
Absalom  and  Achitophel.  As  ex-Laureate,  Dryden 
behaved  with  a  dignity  which  was  in  striking  contrast 
to  the  vacillation  of  his  earlier  years.  When  the 
Government  on  one  occasion  proposed  to  confer  a 
favour,  he,  like  an  honourable  man,  let  it  be  known 
that  he  could  not  accept  it  if  it  implied  any  sacrifice  of 
his  religion.  And  as  he  remained  staunch  to  the 
ancient  faith,  so  he  never  wavered  in  his  allegiance  to 
the  cause  of  James.  He  declined  an  invitation  to  write 
a  poem  on  the  occasion  of  Queen  Mary's  death  in  1694  ; 
and  it  was  a  refusal  to  acknowledge  the  new  King  that 
led  to  his  quarrel  with  Jacob  Tonson,  the  bookseller. 
That  wily  man  desired  that  Drj^den's  translation  of 
Virgil  should  be  dedicated  to  William  HI  ;  but  the 
deposed  Laureate  would  not  agree.  Tonson,  however, 
not  to  be  outdone,  had  an  engraving  drawn  representing 
^neas  with  a  hooked  nose,  so  that  he  might  have  some 
resemblance  to  the  new  King. 

It  ought  also  to  be  placed  to  Dryden's  credit  that, 
despite  the  hard  times  which  had  overtaken  him,  he 
worked  at  his  old  vocation  of  plajrwright  uncom- 
plainingly, and  tried  to  win  by  solid  achievement  the 
respect  and  goodwill  of  his  younger  contemporaries. 
The  cheerful  spirit  in  which  he  worked  after  he  had  lost 


V- 


78  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

the  laurel  is  well  brought  out  by  some  lines  in  the 
prologue  to  Don  Sebastian,  the  first  drama  he  produced 
after  the  Revolution. 

The  judge  removed,  though  he's  no  more  "  my  lord," 

May  plead  at  bar,  or  at  the  council-board  : 

So  may  cast  poets  write  ;  there's  no  pretension 

To  argue  loss  of  wit  from  loss  of  pension. 

And  you  well  know,  a  play's  of  no  religion 

Take  good  advice,  and  please  j'ourselves  this  day  ; 

No  matter  from  what  hands  you  have  the  play. 

If  Dryden,  in  his  old  age,  had  the  mortification  of 
beholding  himself  a  deposed  Court  poet,  he  could  at 
least  rest  securely  in  the  assurance  that  there  was 
one  coveted  honour  of  which  no  king  or  government 
could  deprive  him — that  of  being  the  foremost  repre- 
sentative of  English  literature  of  his  time.  As  he  sat 
in  his  arm-chair  at  Will's,  a  younger  generation  of 
writers  did  him  homage  as  the  indisputable  monarch  of 
the  English  literary  world.  To  Will's  resorted  the 
youthful  Pope,  who,  in  The  Dunciad,  was  to  prove 
himself  a  worthy  successor  of  the  author  of  Absalom 
and  Achitophel.  There,  too,  probably  came  "  Cousin 
Swift,"  who,  however,  was  naturally  not  the  better 
pleased,  when  informed  by  his  aged  relative  that  he 
would  never  make  a  poet.  Another  rising  author  who 
found  his  way  to  the  steps  of  Dryden's  throne  was 
Addison,  with  whose  lines  we  take  leave  of  the  Poet 
Laureate  of  the  second  Charles  and  the  second  James — 

But  see  where  artful  Dryden  next  appears, 
Grown  old  in  rhyme,  but  charming  even  in  years  ; 
Great  Dryden  next,  whose  tuneful  muse  affords 
The  sweetest  numbers  and  the  fittest  words. 


CHAPTER  V 

THOMAS    SHADWELL 

It  is  a  hard,  but  a  true,  saying,  that  Thomas  Shadwell 
owes  his  modicum  of  Hterary  fame  not  to  his  own 
achievement,  but  to  that  of  another.  The  recondite 
student  of  English  hterature  may  be  able  to  name 
correctly  his  seventeen  comedies,  which  an  early  writer 
in  Blackwood  found  duller  than  a  "  concert  of  antient 
music  "  and  dismissed  with  Dogberry's  remark  :  "  They 
are  most  tolerable,  and  not  to  be  endured  "  ;  but  to  the 
vast  majority  the  name  of  Shadwell  only  serves  to 
recall  the  "  True  Blue  Protestant  Poet  "  of  Dryden's 
MacFlecknoe,  and  the  "  Og "  of  the  Second  Part  of 
Absalom  and  Achitophel. 

Shadwell,  however,  was  not  exactly  a  literary  nonentity, 
though  he  came  perilously  near  being  one.  With  more 
malignity  than  truth,  Dryden  depicted  him  as  the  man 
who  never  deviated  into  sense.  He  had  at  least  enough 
intelHgence  and  ability  to  retain  a  hold  on  the  stage  for 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  and,  in  Scott's  judgment,  to  excel 
even  Dryden  in  the  lower  walks  of  comedy.  He  had,  it 
is  true,  a  sordid  imagination,  an  uncouth  expression, 
and  a  dull,  heavy  manner  ;  but  some  of  his  plays  are 
cleverly  constructed,  and  are  not  wholly  devoid  of 
ethical  purpose.  Shadwell,  too,  had  an  eye  for  a  humorous 
situation,  and  he  has  been  justly  praised  for  his  vigour 
of  comic  invention.  Addison  credited  him  with  a  keen 
sense  of  humour  ;  and  Rochester,  a  judge  by  no  means 
to  be  despised,  once  remarked  that  if  Shadwell  "  had 
burnt  all  he  wrote,  and  printed  all  he  spoke,  he  would 

79 


80  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

have  had  more  wit  and  humour  than  any  other  poet." 
It  was  Rochester  who  also  wrote — 

Shadwell's  unfinished  Works  do  yet  impart 
Great  Proofs  of  force  of  Nature,  none  of  Art, 
With  just  bold  Strokes  he  dashes  here  and  there. 
Showing  great  Mastery  with  httle  Care. 

But  when  all  is  said,  the  broad  conclusion  remains  that 
Shadwell  reared  to  himself  no  enduring  literary  monu- 
ment. If  he  uttered  memorable  sayings,  he  certainly 
never  wrote  them.  His  dramatic  works  are  so  much 
literary  lumber,  interesting  to  the  historian  and  the 
antiquary,  but  nowadays  incapable,  or  almost  so,  of 
affording  edification,  instruction,  or  amusement. 

And  what  shall  be  said  of  Shadwell's  offerings  to  the 
Muses  ?  Scott,  following  Dryden,  declared  him  to  be 
"  a  worse  poet  than  Settle,"  which  was  saying  a  great 
deal.  Drj^den,  to  be  sure,  was  not  an  impartial  critic 
where  Shadwell  was  concerned  ;  but  it  is  undeniable 
that  the  "  True  Blue  Protestant  Poet  "  tuned  his  lyre 
to  rather  feeble  strains.  No  literary  aspirant  reckons 
poor  Shadwell  among  his  favourite  poets  :  the  compilers 
of  anthologies  contemptuously  pass  him  by.  Of  poetic 
inspiration  he  has  hardly  a  trace.  Some  of  his  odes  are 
barely  passable  ;  the  rest  of  his  verse  is  the  merest 
fustian.  Yet  Dutch  William  accounted  Shadwell  worthy 
of  the  laurel  which  had  been  removed  from  the  brow  of 
Dryden  ;  and  the  hero  of  MacFlecknoe,  with  the 
complacency  of  mediocrity,  stalked  abroad  in  the  firm 
conviction  that  the  choice  was  fully  justified. 

Bom  in  1640,  or  1642,  at  Broomhill  House,  Norfolk, 
Thomas  Shadwell  belonged  to  a  family  which  had  known 
better  days.  His  ancestors  possessed  landed  property 
in  Staffordshire  and  elsewhere,  but  the  Civil  War  played 
sad  havoc  with  the  patrimony,  and  John  Shadwell,  the 
father  of  the  poet,  found  himself  the  parent  of  eleven 


THOMAS       SHADWELL 

From   an   engraving   by    W.    Faithorne,    Jun.,    after   a 
painting  by   Kersebooni 


^ 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  81 

children,  but  with  httle  money  to  provide  for  them. 
He  was  a  man  of  social  standing,  being  a  barrister,  and 
a  justice  of  the  peace  for  Middlesex,  Norfolk,  and  Suffolk. 
After  the  Restoration,  he  was  appointed  Recorder  of 
Galway,  and  Receiver  there  to  the  Duke  of  York.  He 
closed  his  official  career  as  Attorney-General  at  Tangier. 

His  son,  Thomas,  attended  a  school  at  Bury  St. 
Edmunds  for  about  a  year,  but  received  most  of  his 
early  education  at  home.  When  fourteen,  he  entered 
Caius  College,  Cambridge.  Leaving  without  taking  a 
degree,  he  studied  in  the  Middle  Temple  with  a  view  to 
entering  his  father's  profession,  but  the  law  proved 
uncongenial ;  and,  after  travelling  on  the  Continent, 
he  settled  down  to  writing  for  the  stage. 

Shadwell's  ambition  was  to  excel  in  comedy.  He  had 
spent  laborious  days  and  nights  in  studying  the  works 
of  Ben  Jonson,  for  whom  he  had  a  profound  admiration. 
"  I  had  rather  be,"  he  wrote  in  the  dedication  of  The 
Virtuoso,  "  the  author  of  one  scene  in  his  best  comedies 
than  of  any  play  this  age  has  produced." 

'Twas  he  alone  true  humours  understood 

And  with  great  wit  and  judgment  made  them  good. 

Again,  in  the  preface  to  The  Sullen  Lovers,  Jonson  is 
proclaimed  to  be  "  the  Man  of  all  the  World,  I  most 
admire  for  his  Excellency  in  Dramatick  Poetry."  But 
his  veneration  for  Jonsonian  types  and  "  humours " 
notwithstanding,  it  is  manifest  that  his  debt  to  Moli^re 
was  equally  great.  Shadwell  most  likely  came  under 
the  spell  of  the  great  master  of  comic  drama  while  on 
his  travels.  Moliere  was  then  at  the  height  of  his  fame, 
and  was  producing  with  astonishing  rapidity  and  con- 
summate art  those  comedies  which,  if  they  added  to 
the  gaiety  of  nations,  were  also  a  deterrent  to  folly  and 
vice.     Shadwell    did   not    content    himself   with   taking 

6— {2341) 


82  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

the  great  French  writer  as  a  model.  He  was  the  most 
slavish  of  imitators.  In  fact,  some  of  his  plays  are 
simply  Moliere's  in  English  dress.  And  this  wholesale 
appropriation  of  the  literary  wares  of  another,  Shadwell 
coolly  attempted  to  justify.  "  'Tis  not  barrenness  of 
wit  or  invention  that  makes  us  borrow  from  the  French, 
but  laziness." 

Jonson  and  Moliere  notwithstanding,  Shadwell's 
notions  of  the  function  of  comedy  were  superficial. 
The  proper  subject  of  comic  drama  he  took  to  be  (to 
quote  his  own  words)  "  the  artificial  folly  of  those,  who 
are  not  coxcombs  by  nature,  but  with  great  art  and 
industry  make  themselves  so.  .  .  .  Good  comical 
humour  ought  to  be  such  an  affectation  as  misguides 
men  in  knowledge,  arts,  or  science,  or  that  causes  defec- 
tion in  manners  and  morality,  or  perverts  their  minds  in 
the  main  actions  of  their  lives."  This  circumscribed 
view  of  comedy,  however,  was  found  satisfying  by  the 
age,  and,  save  for  a  few  years  when,  for  political 
reasons,  the  doors  of  the  theatre  were  closed  against  his 
plays,  Shadwell  had  no  cause  to  complain  of  his 
comedies  not  being  appreciated.  As  one  critic  remarks, 
he  enjoyed  a  popularity  in  his  own  day  which  is  not 
easily  explained  in  ours.  ^    Rochester  wrote — 

Of  all  our  modern  wits,  none  seem  to  me 
Once  to  have  touched  upon  true  comedy. 
But  hasty  Shadwell,   and  slow  Wycherley. 

Shadwell's  dramatic  career  starts  with  the  year  1668, 
when  he  brought  out  The  Sullen  Lovers  at  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  Though  modelled  on  Mohere's  Les  Fdcheux,  the 
honours  are,  curiously  enough,  reserved  for  Jonson, 
whose  practice  of  representing  a  variety  of  "  humours," 
Shadwell  says,  in  his  preface,  he  has  tried  to  imitate. 
Lacking  sprightliness  of  fancy,  and  carelessly  executed, 

^   Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  viii,  173 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  83 

the  play  yet  ran  for  twelve  nights,  and  was  revived  two 
years  later  for  the  entertainment  of  the  Court.  Pepys 
found  it  tedious,  and  without  design.  ^  In  1669,  quite 
as  warm  a  reception  greeted  the  tragi-comedy  of  The 
Royal  Shepherdess,  which  was  little  better  than  a  richauffi 
of  Fountain's  The  Rewards  of  Virtue  (1661),  There 
was,  however,  one  notable  personage  who  could  not 
accept  the  popular  verdict.  Pepys,  who  had  some 
months  previously  invited  Shadwell  to  dine  with  him, 
adjudged  the  piece  as  "  the  silliest  for  words  and  design 
and  everything,  that  ever  I  saw  in  my  whole  life,  there 
being  nothing  in  the  world  pleasing  inlit,  but  a  good 
martial  dance  of  pikemen."^  In  1670  there  appeared 
The  Humourists,  and  in  the  following  year,  The  Miser, 
the  former  in  the  style  of  Jonson,  and  the  latter  adapted 
from  Moli^re's  L'Avare.  Then  came  Epsom  Wells  (1672), 
which  marked  a  distinct  advance  in  originality  and 
humour,  though  not  in  delicacy.  Shadwell  says  the  town 
was  "  extremely  kind  "  to  the  play,  but  whether  he  was 
entitled  to  all  the  credit  is  doubtful,  for  Sir  Charles 
Sedley,  who  wrote  the  prologue,  is  said  to  have  also 
assisted  in  the  composition  of  the  piece. 

Following  in  the  wake  of  D'Avenant  and  Dryden,  he 
now  hastened  to  "  improve "  Shakespeare.  In  an 
incredibly  short  time  he  performed  the  surprising  feat 
of  turning  The  Tempest  into  an  opera,  which  he  called 
The  Enchanted  Island,  a  title  which  had  already  been 
appropriated  by  his  two  immediate  predecessors  in  the 
Laureateship.  Besides  mutilating  Shakespeare's  text, 
Shadwell  added  a  masque  and  a  new  song.  Nor  were 
his  labours  in  vain,  for  Genest  records  that  this  operatic 
version  of  The  Tempest  was  produced  at  Dorset  Garden 
with  much  success.  ^ 

1  Diary,  vui,  2.  «  Ibid.,  viii,  238. 

*  Account  of  the  English  Stage,  \,  155. 


84  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

In  the  composition  of  Psyche  (1674),  which  is  in 
rhymed  verse,  he  again  turned  for  inspiration  to  MoH^re. 
Though  described  as  a  "  tragedy,"  Psyche  is  really  an 
opera,  and  is  interesting  as  revealing  Shadwell's  capa- 
bilities as  a  musician,  most  of  the  melodies  of  the  songs 
being  his  own  composition.  The  piece,  which  ran  for 
eight  nights,  appears  to  have  been  elaborately  staged, 
the  scenery  having  cost  £800,  a  large  figure  in  those 
days.  In  the  dedication  to  Psyche,  Shadwell  defended 
himself  against  the  charge,  not  wholly  unwarranted,  of 
utilising  somewhat  freely  the  brains  of  dramatists  more 
gifted  than  himself ;  while  in  that  to  The  Libertine 
(1676),  he  repudiated  Settle's  accusation  of  hasty  writing. 
He,  however,  practically  admitted  the  truthfulness  of 
Settle's  charge  in  the  dedication  to  The  Virtuoso,  which 
saw  the  light  in  the  same  year.  Careful  and  leisurely 
composition  of  "  correct  "  comedies,  he  there  says,  was 
impossible,  owing  to  his  slender  earnings  as  a  playwright. 

Shadwell  now  bestowed  his  attention  once  more  on 
Shakespeare,  and  in  1678  there  appeared  The  History 
of  Timon  of  Athens,  the  Man-Hater.  While  avowing 
admiration  for  "  the  inimitable  hand  of  Shakespeare," 
Shadwell  "  can  truly  say,  I  have  made  it  (Shakespeare's 
tragedy)  into  a  play."  This  was  done  by  introducing 
irrelevant  scenes  and  ridiculous  characters,  and  by 
altering  and  supplementing  Shakespeare's  text  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  make  it  a  travesty  of  the  original.  The 
truncated  version  of  Timon  of  Athens  was  followed  by 
The  True  Widow  (1679),  The  Woman  Captain  (1680), 
and  The  Lancashire  Witches  (1681).  The  latter,  perhaps 
the  most  notable  of  all  Shadwell's  plays,  was 
essentially  political  in  aim,  being  directed  against  both 
the  Roman  Catholics,  and  a  type  of  Church  of  England 
clergyman,  represented  by  the  "  Foolish,  Knavish, 
Popish,  Arrogant,  Insolent,  yet,  for  his  Interest,  Slavish  " 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  85 

chaplain,  Smerk,  a  name  which  Etherege  had  already 
employed  in  The  Man  of  Mode,  and  MarveU  had  made 
very  popular.  The  play  is  also  notable,  inasmuch  as 
it  testifies  that  at  a  date  subsequent  to  the  foundation 
of  the  Royal  Society,  belief  in  witchcraft  was  still  ram- 
pant. Lastly,  it  contains  in  the  character  of  Tegue 
O'Divelly,  the  roguish  priest,  one  of  the  earliest  examples 
of  a  witty  Irishman  being  introduced  on  the  stage. 
Nevertheless,  it  is  a  sordid  and  astoundingly  coarse 
world  that  is  presented  in  The  Lancashire  Witches  ;  and 
it  is  not  surprising  to  learn  that,  in  an  age  by  no  means 
squeamish,  the  licenser  was  compelled  to  make  numerous 
excisions  before  the  play  could  with  propriety  be  acted. 
Addison,  while  praising  Shadwell  for  having  drawn  some 
of  his  characters  "  very  justly,"  observes  that  he  appears 
to  have  been  misled  in  his  witchcraft  by  "an  unwary 
following  of  the  inimitable  Shakespeare."  But  there  is 
something  in  the  comedy  which,  adds  Addison,  wants 
to  be  exorcised  more  than  the  witches.  "  I  mean  the 
freedom  of  some  passages,  which  I  should  have  over- 
looked, if  I  had  not  observed  that  those  jests  can  raise 
the  loudest  mirth,  tho'  they  are  painful  to  right  sense, 
and  an  outrage  upon  modesty."  ^ 

As  has  already  been  mentioned,  Shadwell  achieved 
unenviable  renown  as  the  subject  of  some  of  Dryden's 
most  caustic  wit.  The  story  of  the  quarrel  which  led 
to  his  being  pilloried  in  MacFlecknoe  has  been  narrated 
to  some  extent  in  the  previous  chapter  ;  but  here  the 
incident  will  be  dealt  with  more  particularly  as  it  affects 
Shadwell.  Dry  den  and  Shadwell  were  originally  friends 
and  literary  co-workers.  The  latter,  in  the  preface  to 
The  Humourists,  had  alluded  to  Dryden  as  his  "  par- 
ticular friend."  In  1674,  when  Settle  became  super- 
cilious over  the  unwonted  popularity  of  The  Empress  of 

'  spectator.  No.  141. 


86  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Morocco,  and  impudently  described  himself  as  "  Servant 
to  his  Majesty,"  Shadwell  joined  Dryden  and  Crowne  in 
concocting  Remarks  on  the  "  Empress  of  Morocco,""  in 
which  the  shortcomings  of  the  disdainful  Elkanah  were 
faithfully  dealt  with.  Again,  in  1679,  Dryden  wrote  a 
prologue  to  Shadwell's  True  Widow. 

What,  then,  was  the  cause  of  the  estrangement  ? 
It  was  due  partly  to  a  difference  of  literary  standpoint, 
and  partly  to  political  animus.  Shadwell  and  Dryden 
were  in  sharp  disagreement  regarding  the  fundamentals 
of  true  comedy.  Shadwell  worshipped  Jonson,  though 
he  cribbed  most  from  Moliere.  Dryden,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  his  Essay  of  Dramatic  Poesy  plainly  shows,  was 
by  no  means  prepared  to  swear  by  the  redoubtable  Ben. 
In  the  preface  to  his  first  play.  The  Sullen  Lovers,  Shad- 
well boldly,  though  with  more  courtesy  than  he  after- 
wards showed,  controverted  Dryden's  views  in  the 
Essay.  He  again  returned  to  the  charge  in  the  preface 
to  The  Virtuoso  (1676),  where  Jonson  received  super- 
lative praise,  while  contemporary  dramatists  were 
belittled.  In  the  epilogue,  too,  there  was  a  contemp- 
tuous reference  to  "  heroic  tragedies,"  which  Drj^den 
could  not  but  resent — 

But  of  those  ladies  he  despairs  to-day, 
Who  love  a  dull,  romantic,  whining  play  ; 
Where  poor  frail  woman's  made  a  deity, 
With  senseless  amorous  idolatry, 
And  snivelling  heroes  sigh,  and  pine,  and  cry. 
Though  singly  they  beat  armies  and  huff  kings, 
Rant  at  the  gods,  and  do  impossible  things  ; 
Though  they  can  laugh  at  danger,  blood,  and  wounds, 
Yet  if  the  dame  once  chides,  the  milksop  hero  swoons. 

Exasperating  though  this  allusion  was,  Dryden  kept 
his  temper,  and  for  some  years  longer  the  two 
dramatists  outwardly  remained  friends. 

But    when     the    controversy    assumed     a     political 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  87 

complexion,  as  it  did  in  1682,  when  Dryden  published  The 
Medal,  prefixed  by  a  prose  epistle  to  the  Whigs,  an  open 
rupture  was  inevitable.  In  that  poem  not  only  are  the 
irregularities  of  Shaftesbury's  life  and  his  apostasy 
pungently  satirised,  but  the  views  of  the  Court  regarding 
the  succession  to  the  throne  are  powerfully  upheld. 
The  Medal  was  necessarily  galling  to  a  violent  Whig, 
a  fervent  Protestant,  and  a  champion  of  the  popular 
party  like  Shadwell,  who,  without  hesitation,  accepted 
the  challenge  Dryden  had  thrown  down.  There  promptly 
appeared  The  Medal  of  John  Bayes  :  A  Satire  against 
Folly  and  Knavery,  with  a  prose  Epistle  to  the  Tories,  in 
which  the  "  particular  friend  "  of  Shadwell's  earlier  years 
is  transformed  into  an  "  abandoned  rascal,  half  wit,  half 
fool."  This  lampoon  quickly  found  a  well-merited 
oblivion,  but  it  is  worth  while  to  print  an  extract  if  for 
no  other  reason  than  because  it  affords  an  example  of 
how  Poets  Laureate  could  write  about  each  other  in 
the  ignoble  days  of  the  Restoration. 

How  long  shall  I  endure  without  reply, 

To  hear  this  Bayes,  this  hackney-rayler  lie  ? 

The  fool  uncudgell'd  for  one  libel,  swells, 

Where  not  his  wit,  but  sauciness,  excells  ; 

Whilst  with  foul  words  and  names  which  he  lets  flie. 

He  quite  defiles  the  satyr's  dignity. 

For  hbel  and  true  satyr  different  be, 

This  must  have  truth  and  salt,  with  modesty. 

Sparing  the  persons,  this  does  tax  the  crimes, 

Galls  not  great  men,  but  vices  of  the  times. 

With  witty  and  sharp,  not  blunt  and  bitter  rimes. 

Methinks  the  ghost  of  Horace  there  I  see. 

Lashing  this  cherry-cheek'd  Dunce  of  fifty-three  ; 

Who,  at  that  age,  so  boldly  durst  profane, 

With  base  hir'd  libel,  the  free  satyr's  vein. 

As  far  from  satyr  does  thy  talent  lye, 
As  from  being  cheerful,  or  good  company  ; 
For  thou  art  Saturnine,  thou  dost  confess 
A  civil  word  thy  dulness  to  express. 


88  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Now  farewell  wretched,  mercenary  Bayes, 

"VVTio  the  King  libell'd,  and  did  Cromwell  praise  ; 

Farewell,  abandon'd  rascal,  only  fit 

To  be  abus'd  by  thy  own  scurrilous  wit. 

Dryden  was  now  thoroughly  roused,  and  Shadwell  was 
made  to  feel  how  terrible  was  the  lash  of  his  adversary's 
satire.  An  outline  of  MacFlecknoe,  together  with  an 
extract,  has  been  given  in  the  previous  chapter  ;  but 
here  it  may  be  remarked  that,  while  a  brilliant  satire, 
it  shows  that  Dryden 's  vocabulary  of  abuse  was  almost 
as  varied  and  as  coarse  as  Shadwell's.  There  are  savage 
allusions  to  the  Whig  poet's  "  mountain  belly,"  to  his 
barrenness,  his  obtuseness,  his  slovenly  writing.  Shadwell 
is  represented  as  pledging  himself  to  Flecknoe,  the  King 
of  Nonsense. 

That  he  till  death  true  dulness  would  maintain  ; 
And  in  his  father's  right  and  realm's  defence, 
Ne'er  to  have  peace  with  wit,  nor  truth  with  sense. 

Whereat  Shadwell  receives  the  blessing  of  the  dying 
Flecknoe — 

Like  mine  thy  gentle  numbers  feebly  creep  ; 
Thy  tragic  muse  gives  smiles,  thy  comic — sleep. 

But  Dryden  had  by  no  means  drunk  the  cup  of  revenge 
to  its  dregs.  He  had  ridiculed  Shadwell  as  a  poet  and 
a  dramatist  ;  he  must  now  satirise  him  as  a  man.  This 
he  did  in  the  Second  Part  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel, 
which  appeared  barely  a  month  after  MacFlecknoe. 
In  the  character  of  "  Og,"  Dryden  attacks  the  personal 
appearance  and  habits  of  his  antagonist  in  so  outrageous 
and  disgusting  a  manner  as  to  be  hardly  printable. 
Shadwell  is  described  as  a  drunken  "  mass  of  foul,  cor- 
rupted matter,"  while  his  poverty  and  addiction  to 
opium    are    made   the   subject    of   jest.     The    following 


THOMAS  SHADWELL  89 

passage,  unfortunately,  conveys  but  a  faint  impression 
of  Dryden  at  his  worst — 

Og,  from  a  treason-tavern  rolling  home 
Round  as  a  globe,  and  liquored  every  chink, 
Goodly  and  great  he  sails  behind  his  link. 
With  all  this  bulk  there's  nothing  lost  in  Og, 
For  every  inch  that  is  not  fool  is  rogue  : 
When  wine  has  given  him  courage  to  blaspheme, 
He  curses  God,  but  God  before  cursed  him  ; 
And  if  man  could  have  reason,  none  has  more. 
That  made  his  paunch  so  rich,  and  him  so  poor. 

The  appearance,  towards  the  close  of  1682,  of  The  Duke 
of  Guise  served  only  to  prolong  and  embitter  the  satirical 
war.  Written  partly  by  Dryden,  and  partly  by 
Nathaniel  Lee,  the  play  fiercely  attacked  the  Whigs. 
Shadwell  had  now  a  glorious  opportunity  for  reprisal, 
and  in  a  pamphlet  entitled  "  Some  Reflections  upon  the 
pretended  Parallel  in  the  play  called  The  Duke  of  Guise," 
he  dealt  as  ferociously  with  Dryden  as  Dryden  had  dealt 
with  him.  The  Poet  Laureate  retaliated  in  "Vindication 
of  The  Duke  of  Guise,"  in  which  he  again  ridiculed 
Shadwell's  drinking  habits.  Meanwhile,  Shadwell  was 
concocting  a  reply  which  he  fondly  hoped  would  take 
the  sting  out  of  MacFlecknoe.  This  was  published 
in  1687,  in  a  translation  of  the  Tenth  Satire  of 
Juvenal.  But  it  was  a  jejune  production,  which 
neither  injured  Dryden's  reputation  nor  enhanced  the 
author's. 

This  campaign  of  vituperation,  in  which  nothing  was 
held  sacred,  continued  at  intervals  during  the  remainder 
of  Shadwell's  life.  Dryden  was  incomparably  the  ablest 
protagonist,  but  the  trend  of  party  politics  gave  the  palm 
of  victory  to  Shadwell.  The  Revolution  was  now  at 
hand  ;  and  as  Dryden  was  an  impossible  Laureate  under 
the  new  regime  of  William  and  Mary,  the  appointment 
was  in  1689  conferred  on  Shadwell.     "  I  do  not  pretend 


90  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

to  say  how  great  a  poet  Shadwell  may  be,"  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  (the  Earl  of  Dorset)  is  reported  to  have 
said  on  being  asked  why  he  did  not  recommend  a  better 
poet  for  the  Laureateship  :  "  but  I  am  sure  he  is  an 
honest  man."  Dorset  probably  meant  to  pay  a  compli- 
ment to  Shadwell's  political  consistency  ;  and  certainly, 
if  party  services  were  to  be  made  a  qualification  for  the 
Laureateship,  no  Whig  man  of  letters  then  living  had  a 
prior  claim. 

Shadwell  had  championed  the  Whig  cause  through 
good  and  evil  report,  and  had  suffered  for  it.  He  had 
been  "  silenced  for  a  Nonconformist  poet,"  and  he  had 
had  his  plays  proscribed.  "  I  never  could  recant  in  the 
worst  of  times,"  he  wrote  in  the  dedication  to  Bury 
Fair  (1689),  "  when  my  ruin  was  designed,  and  my  life 
was  sought,  and  for  near  ten  years  I  was  kept  from  the 
exercise  of  that  profession  which  had  afforded  me  a 
competent  subsistence."  This  was  literally  true. 
Shadwell's  robust  loyalty  was,  it  must  be  confessed, 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  vacillation  of  Dryden.  It  was 
also  in  Shadwell's  favour  that  he  had  heralded  the 
Revolution,  and  the  coming  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  in 
a  congratulatory  poem.  He  had  likewise  done  poetical 
homage  to  Queen  Mary. 

It  was  clear,  then,  that  Shadwell's  claims  could  not 
be  overlooked  ;  and  as  William  most  admired  an  honest 
Whig  politician,  he  was  not  disposed  to  scrutinise  too 
closely  Shadwell's  credentials  as  a  poet.  He  was,  there- 
fore, appointed  Poet  Laureate  and  Historiographer 
Royal,  the  combined  offices  yielding  him,  as  in  the  case 
of  his  predecessor,  a  salary  of  ;^300  a  year.  It  was  now 
Shadwell's  turn  to  be  jubilant.  His  political  services 
had  been  rewarded  by  two  comfortable  Government 
posts,  and,  what  evidently  gave  him  equal  satisfaction, 
he  had  wrested   the   coveted  laurel   from  his   bitterest 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  91 

enemy.  In  the  prologue  to  Buyy  Faiy,  he  thus  celebrates 
his  triumph — 

These  wretched  poetitos,  who  got  praise 

For  writing  most  confounded  loyal  plays, 

With  viler,  coarser  jests  than  at  Bear-garden, 

And  silly  Grub-street  songs  worse  than  Tom-farthing. 

If  any  noble  patriot  did  excel, 

His  own  and  country's  rights  defending  well, 

These  yelping  curs  were  straight  loo'd  on  to  bark, 

On  the  deserving  man  to  set  a  mark. 

These  abject,  fawning  parasites  and  knaves, 

Since  they  were  such,  would  have  all  others  slaves. 

'Twas  precious  loyalty  that  was  thought  fit 

T'  atone  for  want  of  honesty  and  wit. 

No  wonder  common-sense  was  all  cry'd  down, 

And  noise  and  nonsense  swagger 'd  thro'  the  town. 

Our  author,  then  opprest,  would  have  you  know  it. 

Was  silenced  for  a  Nonconformist  poet  ; 

In  those  hard  times  he  bore  the  utmost  test. 

And  now  he  swears  he's  loyal  as  the  best. 

Shadwell's  Laureateship  was  one  of  the  shortest  on 
record.  It  lasted  barely  three  years,  and  was  dis- 
tinguished only  by  the  resumption  of  Jonson's  custom, 
which,  in  later  times,  was  to  make  the  post  ridiculous — 
the  composition  of  royal  birthday  odes.  Shadwell 
possibly  might  have  done  better  had  his  tenure  of  the 
office  been  longer  ;  but,  judging  by  the  few  odes  he  com- 
posed, the  outlook  was  certainly  not  promising. 
Southey,  somewhat  forgetful  of  other  reputations, 
pronounced  him  the  lowest  of  the  Laureates. 

In  fairness  to  Shadwell,  however,  it  ought  to  be  stated 
that  he  received  small  encouragement  to  cultivate  his 
muse.  Harassed,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  unpunctual 
pajmient  of  his  salary,  and,  on  the  other,  by  the 
malevolent  attacks  of  a  host  of  enemies,  chief  of  whom 
was  his  deposed  predecessor,  Dryden,  who  seemed 
determined  to  prove  himself  the  exemplar  of  what  a 
brilliant  essayist  has  called  "  the  unchanging  stupidity 


92  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

of  revenge,"  Shadwell  found  the  Laureateship  anything 
but  a  bed  of  roses.  But  through  it  all  he  tried  to  be  a 
conscientious  Poet  Laureate  ;  and,  if  his  achievement 
falls  a  long  way  short  of  the  highest,  some  consolation 
may  be  derived  from  the  fact  that  he  did  not  quite 
reach  the  abysmal  depths  of  several  of  his  successors. 

The  first  ode  Shadwell  composed  in  commemoration 
of  the  birthday  of  the  "  great  Nassau,"  gives  a  very  fair 
idea  of  his  powers — 

Welcome,  thrice  welcome  this  auspicious  morn 

On  which  the  great  Nassau  was  born, 

Sprung  from  a  mighty  race  which  was  design'd 

For  the  deliv'rers  of  mankind. 

Illustrious  heroes,  whose  prevailing  Fates 

Rais'd  the  distress'd  to  high  and  mighty  states  ; 

And  did  b}'^  that  possess  more  true  renown. 

Than  their  Adolphus  gain'd  by  the  Imperial  crown. 

They  cooled  the  rage,  humbled  the  pride  of  Spain, 

But  since  the  insolence  of  France  no  less, 

Had  brought  the  States  into  distress, 
But  that  a  precious  scion  did  remain 
From  that  great  root,  which  did  the  shock  sustain. 
And  made  them  high  and  mighty  once  again. 
This  Prince  for  us,  was  born  to  make  us  free 
From  the  most  abject  slavery. 

Thou  has  restor'd  our  laws  their  force  again  ; 
We  still  shall  conquer  on  the  land  by  thee  ; 

By  thee  shall  triumph  on  the  main. 

But  thee  a  Fate  much  more  sublime  attends, 

Europe  for  freedom  on  thy  sword  depends  ; 
And  thy  victorious  arms  shall  tumble  down 
The  savage  monster  from  the  Gallick  throne  ; 

To  this  important  day,  we  all  shall  owe. 

Oh  glorious  birth,  from  which  such  blest  effects  shall  flow. 

{General  chorus  of  voices  and  instruments). 

On  this  glad  day  let  every  voice. 

And  instrument,  proclaim  our  joys, 
And  let  all  Europe  join  in  the  triumphant  noise. 

To  Triumphe  let  us  sing, 

To  Triumphe  let  us  sing. 
And  let  the  sound  through  all  the  spacious  welkin  ring. 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  93 

Thus  the  prophetic  muses  say, 

And  all  the  wise  and  good  will  pray, 

That  they  long,  long,  may  celebrate  this  day. 

Soon  haughty  France  shall  bow,  and  coz'ning  Rome, 

And  Britain  mistress  of  the  world  become  ; 

And  from  thy  wise,  thy  God-like  sway. 

Kings  learn  to  reign,  and  subjects  to  obey. 

Shadwell  wrote  an  ode  to  the  King  on  his  return  from 
Ireland  in  1690,  while  New  Year's  Day  of  1692  wit- 
nessed the  publication  of  Votum  Perenne  :  A  Poem  to 
the  King.  This  appears  to  have  concluded  the  brief  list 
of  Laureate  odes. 

In  the  last  years  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II,  and 
throughout  the  reign  of  his  successor,  Shadwell's  political 
and  ecclesiastical  opinions  made  him  obnoxious  to  the 
Court,  and  the  royal  displeasure  resulted  in  the  pro- 
scription of  his  plays.  His  dramatic  career  was,  there- 
fore, at  a  standstill ;  but  in  the  year  of  the  Revolution 
it  was  resumed  with  the  production  of  The  Squire  of 
Alsatia,  an  excursion  into  the  domain  of  the  picaresque, 
which  brought  him  a  large  accession  of  fame,  and,  what 
he  sorely  needed,  a  substantial  addition  to  his  income. 
No  comedy,  the  author  observes  in  the  dedication  to 
Lord  Dorset,  "  these  many  years  had  filled  the  theatre 
so  long  together  ;  and  I  had  the  great  honour  to  find  so 
many  friends,  that  the  house  was  never  so  full  since  it 
was  built  as  upon  the  third  day  of  this  play,  and  vast 
numbers  went  away  that  could  not  be  admitted."  No 
doubt,  Shadwell  here  gives  a  highly  coloured  account  of 
his  performance,  but  the  remarkable  success  of  the  play 
is  vouched  for  by  the  fact  that  it  ran  for  thirteen  nights 
— <[uite  a  long  spell  in  those  days — and  that  on  the 
memorable  third  night,  Shadwell's  share  of  the  profits 
amounted  to  £130,  a  sum  which  he  claims  to  be  in  excess 
by  £16  of  that  drawn  by  "  any  other  poet."  One  of  the 
best  of  Shadwell's  plays,  The  Squire  of  Alsatia,  has  long 


94  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

since  been  relegated  to  the  museum  of  literary  curiosities, 
thougli  it  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  that  Scott,  in 
his  preface  to  the  Fortunes  of  Nigel,  acknowledges  his 
indebtedness  to  it  for  the  description  of  the  disreputable 
sanctuary  of  Whitefriars. 

In  1689  there  appeared  Bury  Fair,  founded  partly  on 
Moliere's  Les  Precieuses  Ridicules,  and  partly  on  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle's  Triumphant  Widow.  It  was  quickly 
followed  by  The  Amorous  Bigot  (1690),  and  The  Scowrers 
(1691).  None  of  these  comedies  added  to  his  reputation, 
though  the  last  presented  a  vivid  picture  of  contem- 
porary manners,  an  aspect  of  Shadwell's  work  which 
Macaulay  in  his  History  singles  out  for  special  mention. 
His  last  play,  The  Volunteers,  or  the  Stock  Jobbers,  was 
dedicated  to  Queen  Mary,  but  was  not  acted  until  the 
year  following  his  death.  In  Dr.  Ward's  opinion,  the 
author  here  comes  as  near  to  comedy  of  character  as  in 
any  of  his  plays.  ^  Perhaps  the  most  interesting  feature 
of  the  pla}'^  for  the  present-day  reader  is  the  epilogue 
which,  spoken  by  an  actor  clad  in  deep  mourning,  takes 
the  form  of  a  panegyric  of  Shadwell's  dramatic  powers. 

Shadwell,  the  great  support  o'  the  comic  stage, 

Born  to  expose  the  follies  of  the  age. 

To  whip  prevailing  vices,  and  unite 

Mirth   with   Instruction,   Profit  with   Delight. 

For  large  ideas  and  a  flowing  pen. 

First  of  our  times,  and  second  but  to  Ben. 

Shadwell,  who  all  his  lines  from  Nature  drew. 
Copy'd  her  out,  and  kept  her  still  in  view  ; 

Who  ne'er  was  bribed,  by  title  or  estate, 
To  fawn  and  flatter  with  the  rich  or  great. 
To  let  a  gilded  vice  or  folly  pass, 
But  always  lashed  the  villain  and  the  ass. 

Shadwell  died  with  startling  suddenness,  in  1692,  at 
the  comparatively  early  age  of   fifty.       A  rumour   was 

'  English  Dramatic  Literature,  iii,  459-60. 


THOMAS   SHADWELL  95 

circulated  that  he  had  fallen  by  his  own  hand  after 
reading  an  unusually  virulent  attack  on  himself.  The 
story  was  denied  by  Dr.  Nicholas  Brady,  who  preached  the 
Laureate's  funeral  sermon  in  Chelsea  Church  ;  but  the 
disclaimer  of  the  eminent  divine  was  hardly  necessary, 
for  Shadwell  was  by  no  means  a  sensitive  man.  That 
he  died  from  the  effects  of  an  accidental  overdose  of 
opium  is  much  more  probable.  He  was  buried  at 
Chelsea.  His  eldest  son  (afterwards  Sir  John  Shadwell) 
placed  a  small  white  marble  tablet,  surmounted  by  a  bust, 
in  the  Poet's  Corner  in  Westminster  Abbey.  For  this 
monument  Sir  John  wrote  a  Latin  epitaph  setting  forth 
*'  the  good  design  and  intention  "  of  his  father's  works  ; 
but  "  after  it  was  engraved  upon  the  stone,  it  was  altered 
by  the  desire  of  the  late  Bishop  of  Rochester,  upon  an 
exception  which  he  said  some  of  the  clergy  had  made 
to  it,  as  being  too  great  an  encomium  upon  plays,  to  be 
set  up  in  a  church."  ^ 

Dr.  Nicholas  Brady,  in  his  funeral  oration,  said 
Shadwell's  "  natural  and  acquired  abilities  made  him 
very  amiable  to  all  who  conversed  with  him,  a  very  few 
being  equal  in  the  becoming  qualities  which  adorn  and 
set  off  a  complete  gentleman."  Brady  had  the  inestim- 
able advantage  of  knowing  the  Laureate  personally ; 
but  if  Shadwell  was  his  ideal  of  a  "  complete  gentleman," 
one  trembles  to  think  of  those  whom  the  worthy  divine 
would  have  classified  as  the  reverse. 

That  Shadwell  had  a  ready  wit  and  made  some  mark 
as  a  writer  of  comedy  ;  that  he  could  talk  well ;  that 
patriotism  glowed  in  his  breast  ;  and  that  he  was 
tolerably  free  from  servility  and  cowardice  cannot  be 
denied  ;  but  to  adopt  the  language  of  filial  affection, 
and  credit  him  with  "  a  strict  sense  of  honour  and 
morality,"    and    true    religious    feeling,    is    impossible. 

1  Memoir  prefixed  to  Shadwell's  Works  (4  vols.,  1720). 


96  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Shadwell  was  a  true  son  of  the  Restoration — coarse,  dis- 
sipated, vituperative.  The  bust  of  him  in  Westminster 
Abbey  exhibits  a  fat,  sensual  face  suggestive  of  the 
injunction :  "  Let  us  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for 
to-morrow  we  die."  But  he  appears  to  have  been  a 
good  husband  and  an  affectionate  father.  His  "  dih- 
gent,  careful,  and  provident  "  wife,  to  whom  he  left  his 
interest  in  the  Dorset  Garden  Theatre,  had  herself  a 
connection  with  the  stage,  having  acted  in  Otway's 
Don  Carlos  in  1676,  and  in  her  husband's  version  of 
Timon  of  Athens  in  1678. 

To  his  son,  John,  who  brought  out,  in  1720,  a  collected 
edition  of  his  dramatic  works,  in  four  volumes,  with  a 
dedication  to  George  I,  he  left  £5  for  mourning,  together 
with  his  books.  These  included  Hobbes's  works,  against 
whose  "  ill  opinions  "  concerning  government  he  thought 
fit  to  warn  his  son.  In  that  warning  against  the 
political  heresies  of  the  author  of  the  Leviathan,  the 
true  Shadwell  stands  revealed — the  man  who  possessed 
the  unimaginative,  if  practical,  mind  of  a  politician 
rather  than  the  soul  of  a  poet,  the  man  who  was  more 
concerned  about  the  triumph  of  the  Whigs  than  about 
votive  offerings  to  the  Muses. 


CHAPTER  VI 

NAHUM   TATE 

SouTHEY  assuredly  was  not  speaking  ex  cathedrd  when 
he  declared  that  Shadwell  was  poetically  the  worst  of 
the  Laureates,  and  that  Nahum  Tate  just  missed  sharing 
the  distinction  with  him.  Where,  one  may  ask,  does  the 
absurd  Eusden  and  the  intolerable  Pye  come  in  ? 
Shadwell's  career  has  already  been  dealt  with,  and  he 
may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  take  care  of  himself,  but 
something  must  be  said  in  defence  of  the  hapless 
Nahum. 

His  poetical  record  is,  admittedly,  very  bad.  Some 
one  has  characterised  Tate,  not  extravagantly,  as  "  the 
author  of  the  worst  alteration  of  Shakespeare,  the  worst 
version  of  the  Psalms  of  David,  and  the  worst  continua- 
tion of  a  great  poem."  Yet  he  was  not  so  bad  as 
Eusden  and  Pye.  Tate  had  so  many  indignities  to 
suffer  in  the  flesh,  that  his  memory  might  have  been 
spared  this  one.  Scott  was  at  once  more  charitable  and 
more  discriminating  when  he  likened  him  to  "  one  of 
those  second-rate  bards,  who,  by  dint  of  pleonasm  and 
expletive,  can  find  smooth  lines  if  any  one  wiU  supply 
them  with  ideas."  ^  This  was  Tate's  whole  case  in  a 
nutshell. 

Tate  was  a  mediocrity,  and  he  had  the  good  fortune 
to  know  it,  and  the  good  sense  to  act  on  the  assumption. 
His  mind  was  commonplace  and  uncritical,  his  poetical 
faculty  slender,  his  learning  a  negligible  quantity.  But 
his   ingenuity   was   great,   his   industry   untiring.     If   a 

^  Dryden  :     Works,  ed.  Saintsbury,  i,  223. 

97 
7— (834.) 


/ 


X 


98  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

secure  position  in  the  world  of  letters  could  be  gained 
simply  by  plodding,  then  Tate  would  easily  have  won. 
He  wrote  with  an  ominous  facility,  and  left  behind  him 
multifarious  writings  unillumined  by  a  single  flash  of 
inspiration.  He  was  Poet  Laureate,  and  a  good  deal 
more.  He  wrote  dull,  verbose  dramas ;  he  indited 
poems  on  all  sorts  of  subjects,  from  the  virtues  of  tea 
to  ballooning ;  he  mangled  Shakespeare ;  he  toiled 
laboriously  as  a  bookseller's  hack  ;  he  compiled  (with 
Nicholas  Brady)  a  popular  metrical  version  of  the 
Psalms ;  he  translated  Ovid,  Horace,  Juvenal,  and 
Virgil ;  he  supported  Jeremy  Collier's  agitation  for  the 
reformation  of  the  stage  ;  he  edited  a  journal  for  the 
promotion  of  religion  and  virtue  ;  and,  with  distressing 
celerity,  he  penned  verses  about  anybody  or  anything 
when  sufficiently  recompensed. 

His  versatility  notwithstanding,  Tate  was  a  modest 
man.  He  never  assumed  the  grand  manner,  never  tried 
to  be  oracular.  Oldys  describes  him  as  a  "  free,  good- 
natured,  fuddling  companion  "  ;  while  Gildon  says  that 
he  was  shy,  taciturn,  and  possessed  a  genius  for  doing 
things  in  the  wrong  way,  which  retarded  his  advance- 
ment in  life.  He  was  also  thriftless.  Frequently,  his 
chronic  impecuniosity  led  to  his  being  lodged  in  a 
debtor's  prison,  and  within  the  precincts  of  one  he 
died. 

A  poetaster,  a  starveling,  and  a  sycophant,  without 
understanding,  without  wit,  and  without  enthusiasm, 
Tate  repels^  far  more  than  he  attracts.  To  be  frank,  he 
was  rather  a  poor  creature.  And  yet  one  must  con- 
jecture the  presence  of  stamina  and  a  certain  elevation 
of  spirit  in  Tate  who,  in  an  age  when  the  unbridled 
licence  of  the  Restoration  was  far  from  becoming  a 
tradition,  made  a  bold  stand  with  Jeremy  CoUier  on 
behalf  of  purer  morals  on  the  stage.     Moreover,  if  Pope 


NAHUM  TATE  99 

cursed  him,  and  Swift  made  fun  of  his  poetical  fecundity, 
there  were  some  among  his  lesser  contemporaries  who 
were  appreciative.  It  was  a  friendly  but  not  very 
acute  critic  who  wrote — 

The  British  laurel  by  old  Chaucer  worn, 
Still  fresh  and  gay  did  Dryden's  brow  adorn, 
And  that  its  lustre  may  not  fade  on  thine, 
Wit,  fancy,  judgment,  Tate  in  thee  combine. 

Tate,  unfortunately,  lacked  all  three.  There  is  a  little 
more  truth  in  the  following  lines — 

Long  may  the  laurel  flourish  on  your  brow. 
Since  you  so  well  a  Laureate's  duty  know. 
For  virtue's  rescue  daring  to  engage 
Against  the  tyrant  vices  of  the  age. 

Why  or  when  Nahum  Tate  altered  the  patronymic  from 
Teate  to  Tate  cannot  now  be  determined,  but  it  is  certain 
that  the  former  spelling  prevailed  in  the  family  for 
generations.  Faithful  Teate,  his  father,  was  a  dis- 
tinguished Irish  divine  with  strong  Puritan  sympathies. 
One  of  his  sermons  was  dedicated  to  Oliver  Cromwell, 
and  he  wrote  a  quaint  devotional  poem  entitled,  Ter 
Tria,  or  the  Doctrine  of  the  Three  Sacred  Persons  :  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Spirit.  He  also  made  some  mark  in 
Irish  history,  having  in  1641  furnished  the  Government 
with  information  regarding  the  movements  of  the  rebels, 
an  act  which  cost  him  much.  His  wife  and  children 
were  cruelly  treated,  his  house  was  burned,  and  he 
himself  was  robbed.  Subsequently,  he  held  two  bene- 
fices in  England,  but  in  or  about  1660  he  returned  to 
Ireland,  and  became  incumbent  of  a  church  in  Dublin. 
In  that  city,  Nahum  Tate  was  born  in  1652.  His 
father  gave  him  the  best  education  that  the  time  and 
the  country  afforded,  sending  him  in  1668  to  Trinity 
College,  Dublin,  where  he  himself  had  graduated  nearly 
fifty  years  before.     Having  taken  the  degree  of  B.A.  in 


100  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

1672,  Tate  seems  to  have  settled  in  England  soon  after, 
and  to  have  sedulously  courted  the  Muses.  In  1677  he 
published  in  London  a  small  volume  of  poems,  one  of 
which  laments  "  the  present  corrupted  state  of  Poetry," 
and  is,  as  one  critic  suggests,  a  striking  example  of  the 
decay  of  which  it  complains.  Written  in  a  variety  of 
metres,  these  poems  compare  favourably  with  any  verses 
the  author  afterwards  produced,  and  brought  him  into 
touch  with  the  Court  and  with  Dryden,  who  was  then 
Poet  Laureate. 

Encouraged  by  this  success,  Tate  now  sought  to 
establish  a  connection  with  the  theatre.  In  1678  he 
produced  Brutus  of  Alba ;  or  the  Enchanted  Lovers. 
Based  on  the  story  of  Dido  and  ^Eneas,  and  dedicated 
to  that  Maecenas  of  the  Restoration  era — Lord  Dorset, 
it  is  a  most  agonising  tragedy.  One  of  the  characters 
is  murdered,  another  is  poisoned,  three  commit  suicide, 
while  only  one  dies  a  natural  death.  Moreover,  "  there 
is  much  thunder  and  lightning,  rage,  fury,  and  bombast 
throughout."  Brutus  of  Alba  met  with  a  reception 
which  ought  to  have  convinced  Tate  that  he  was  no 
more  bom  to  be  a  successful  playwright  than  he  was  to 
be  a  poet.  But  he  was  compelled  to  be  sanguine,  even 
although  the  popular  applause  rang  faintly  in  his  ear, 
for  he  must  write  or  starve. 

So,  unabashed,  he  in  1680  again  tried  to  entice  play- 
goers with  the  Loyal  General,  which  was  acted  at  Dorset 
Garden.  This  play  was  also  a  failure,  not  even  a  pro- 
logue by  Dryden  being  able  to  save  it  from  oblivion. 
Tate  now  resorted  to  an  expedient  which  had  helped  to 
revive  the  drooping  fortunes  of  his  predecessors  in  the 
Laureateship — he  resolved  to  bring  Shakespeare  up  to 
date.  He  chose  Richard  II,  the  text  of  which  he  not  only 
radically  altered,  but  into  it  he  introduced,  in  a  spirit 
utterly  unhistorical,  many  overt  allusions  to  contemporary 


NAHUM   TATE  101 

political  events,  as  well  as  a  few  songs.  Here  is  the 
first  stanza  of  one  of  the  latter — 

Retired  from  any  mortal's  sight, 

The  pensive  Damon  lay, 
He  blest  the  discontented  night. 

And  cursed  the  smiling  day  : 
The  tender  sharers  of  his  pain, 

His  flocks,  no  longer  graze. 
But  sadly  fixed  around  the  swain, 

Like  silent  mourners  gaze. 

If  Tate  thought  that  by  such  grotesque  interpolations  he 
was  taking  a  short  cut  to  popularity,  he  was  rudely  dis- 
illusioned, for  The  Sicilian  Usurper,  the  fantastic  title 
of  this  rifacimento  of  Shakespeare's  play,  was  suppressed 
as  being  dangerous  to  the  public  peace,  after  running 
only  three  nights. 

In  the  same  year,  1681,  he  produced  an  adaptation  of 
King  Lear,  which,  despite  the  fact  that  the  part  of  the 
fool  is  omitted,  and  Cordelia  is  made  to  survive  her 
father  and  marry  Edgar,  was  a  triumphant  and  abiding 
success.  No  doubt  the  histrionic  gifts  of  Betterton  had 
a  good  deal  to  do  with  its  auspicious  start,  but  that  it 
hit  the  popular  taste  in  days  when  a  sound  critical  text 
of  Shakespeare  was  non-existent,  is  indisputable,  for 
Tate's  version  of  Lear  actually  held  the  stage  until  the 
restoration  of  Shakespeare's  tragedy  by  Macready  at 
Co  vent  Garden  in  1838.  Both  Garrick  and  Kemble 
adhered  to  Tate,  but  Kean  broke  through  the  tradition 
about  1823  by  restoring  the  last  scene  of  the  original.  ^ 
Addison  disapproved  of  Tate's  adaptation,  which, 
although  it  might  be  reformed  "  according  to  the 
chimerical  notion  of  poetical  justice,"  had  deprived  the 
original  of  "  half  its  beauty."  ^  Johnson,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  the  temerity  to  defend  Tate's  version,   his 

*  Macready's   Reminiscences,  ii,  462. 
'  spectator,  No.  40. 


102  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

feelings  having  been  harrowed  by  witnessing,  in 
Shakespeare's  tragedy,  Cordelia's  strangulation  in  prison. 
Tate  also  prepared  a  version  of  Coriolanus,  to  which  he 
gave  the  horrific  title,  Ingratitude  of  a  Commonwealth. 
It  was  acted  at  the  Theatre  Royal  in  1682,  but  attracted 
little  attention. 

From  tragedy,  Tate  proceeded  to  comedy.  Duke  and 
No  Duke  was  one  of  the  last  plays  witnessed  by 
Charles  II,  and  it  is  said  to  have  diverted  him.  There 
followed  Cuckold's  Haven  (1685),  a  clumsy  imitation  of 
Chapman's  Eastward  Ho  !  It  contains  a  song  in  praise 
of  Bacchus,  the  first  stanza  of  which  is  as  follows — 

How  great  are  the  blessings  of  Government  made. 

By  the  excellent  rule  of  our  Prince, 
Who,  while  troubles  and  cares  do  his  pleasure  invade, 

To  his  people  all  joy  does  dispense  : 
And  while  he  for  us  is  carking  and  thinking, 
We  have  nothing  to  mind — but  our  shops  and  our  trade. 
And  then  to  divert  us  with  drinking. 

The  prince  here  alluded  to,  Charles  II,  must  have  blushed 
if  he  ever  scanned  those  lines.  Tate  also  published 
Island  Princess,  or  the  Generous  Portugals  (1687),  which 
derived  its  inspiration  from  Fletcher  ;  and  the  unacted 
His  Injured  Love,  or  the  Cruel  Husband,  founded  on 
Webster's  White  Devil. 

With  these  plays,  none  of  them  successful,  Tate 
terminated  a  dramatic  career  as  brief  as  it  was 
inglorious.  Only  once  did  he  renew  his  acquaintance 
with  the  stage,  and  that  was  when  he  engaged  in  the 
laudable  attempt  to  reform  it.  In  1698  Jeremy  Collier, 
that  born  ecclesiastical  controversialist,  created  much 
commotion  in  theatrical  circles,  and  infuriated  Congreve, 
by  the  publication  of  his  Short  View  of  the  Immorality 
and  Profaneness  of  the  English  Stage.  Tate,  whose 
experience  of  the  theatre  had  convinced  him  that  the 
stage  must  either  be  reformed  or  silenced,  boldly  came 


NAHUM   TATE  103 

forth  in  the  company  of  the  nonjuring  bishop  to  plead 
the  cause  of  virtue.  He  drew  up  proposals  for  the 
regulation  of  plays,  and  for  improving  the  moral  atmos- 
phere of  the  theatre.  But  it  was  a  thankless  task,  for 
the  purification  of  the  stage  was  as  yet  an  idle  dream. 

The  friendship  with  Dryden,  which  began  soon  after 
the  Irish  poet's  arrival  in  London,  waxed  stronger  with 
the  years.  Tate  was  not  slow  to  appreciate  the  kindly 
interest  of  the  Court  poet,  and  the  most  outstanding 
man  of  letters  of  his  time — an  interest  which,  as  has 
been  shown,  took  a  practical  form,  Dryden  having 
furnished  a  prologue  to  Tate's  second  play.  In  1682  he 
had  immortality  conferred  on  him  through  being  asso- 
ciated with  the  production  of  the  Second  Part  of 
Absalom  and  Achito-phel.  In  the  preface  to  the  edition 
published  by  Tonson  in  1716  (when  both  Dryden  and 
Tate  were  dead),  it  is  explained  that  when  Dryden 
found  himself  unable  to  write  a  second  part  to  his  great 
satire,  though  hard  pressed  to  do  so  by  the  King  and 
other  patrons  of  lowlier  rank,  "  he  spoke  to  Mr.  Tate 
to  write  one,  and  gave  him  his  advice  in  the  direction 
of  it ;    and  that  part  beginning. 

Next  those,  a  troop  of  busy  spirits  press 

and  ending, 

To  talk  like  Doeg,  and  to  write  like  thee 

containing  nearly  200  lines,  were  entirely  Mr.  Dryden's 
composition,  besides  some  touches  in  other  places." 

But  while  Tate  wrote  the  major  portion  of  the 
Second  Part  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  it  can  scarcely 
be  said  that  he  added  thereby  to  the  sum  of  poetic 
excellence.  All  that  is  of  permanent  value,  of  enduring 
interest,  came  from  the  pen  of  Dryden.  He  it  was  who 
drew  the  inimitable  portraits  of  Doeg  and  Og  (Settle  and 
Shadwell),  and  what  would  the  Second  Part  of  this  great 


104  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

satire  be  worth  without  these  ?  As  for  poor  Tate, 
destitute  of  ideas,  halting  in  expression,  and  with  but  a 
vague  suggestion  of  wit,  what  could  he  do  but  purloin 
images,  phrases,  and  sentiments  from  the  first  instalment 
of  the  poem  ?  The  portrait  of  Dryden  as  Asaph,  the 
character  of  Corah  and,  perhaps,  Arod,  and  the  account 
of  the  Greenribbon  Club,  Scott  believed  to  be  the  handi- 
work of  Tate,  but  he  is  careful  to  add  that  wherever  the 
lines  tend  to  rise  above  mediocrity,  it  may  be  presumed 
that  their  merit  is  as  much  due  to  the  revision  of 
Dryden  as  to  Tate. 

Dryden  was  pleased  with  the  Irishman's  performance, 
and  when  he  was  translating  Ovid  and  Juvenal,  he  again 
took  him  into  literary  partnership.  In  this  project,  Tate 
acquitted  himself  with  more  distinction.  His  transla- 
tion of  Ovid's  Remedy  of  Love  has  been  praised  for  its 
grace  and  polish. 

Shadwell's  death,  in  1692,  caused  a  vacancy  in  the 

Laureateship,  and  Tate  was  appointed  by  Lord  Jersey. 

A  more  amazing  appointment  could  hardly  have  been 

made.     Tate    was    not    only    the    friend    and    literary 

co-partner  of  Dryden,  the  poet  of  Charles  and  of  James, 

but  he  had  himself  belauded  the  Stuart  dynasty,  and 

written  a  poem  on  the  "  sacred  memory  "  of  Charles,  in 

which  occurred  the  lugubrious  couplet — 

To  farthest   lands  let   groaning  winds  relate. 
And  rolling  Oceans  roar  their  master's  fate. 

How,  then,  did  Tate  succeed  so  intemperate  a  Whig  as 
Shadwell  ?  The  question  is  more  easily  asked  than 
answered.  It  has  been  suggested  that  his  Christian 
name  and  his  Puritan  antecedents  had  something  to  do 
with  it,  but  it  is  impossible  to  attach  much  importance 
to  any  such  view.  It  is  more  likely  that  the  Whigs 
found  it  extremely  difficult  to  obtain  the  services  of  a 
tolerable  bard,  and  that  the  office  was  bestowed  on  Tate 


NAHUM   TATE  105 

in  despair.  He,  however,  was  not  given  the  post  of 
Historiographer  Royal.  That  office  was  conferred  on 
Thomas  Rymer,  an  historian  and  archaeologist,  who  was 
well  qualified  to  lend  distinction  to  a  position  which 
Dryden  and  Shadwell  had  filled  rather  than  adorned. 
On  the  accession  of  Anne,  however,  the  office  of 
Historiographer  Royal  did  come  Tate's  way. 

Tate  wore  the  laurel  for  twenty-three  years,  serving 
during  that  time  William  HI  and  Anne.  There  were 
many  disappointed  bards  when  he  ascended  the  poetical 
throne.  Chief  of  these  was  Matthew  Prior,  who  was 
not  only  a  better  poet,  but  a  more  accomplished  cour- 
tier. Prior  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  diplomatic 
service,  and  had  been  for  a  short  time  British  ambas- 
sador to  the  Court  of  Louis  XIV.  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  had  the  Laureateship  become  vacant  in 
Anne's  reign,  he  would  have  been  appointed.  But 
Tate  lived  on  ingloriously  into  the  reign  of  the  first 
George,  and  the  chagrined  Prior,  throwing  dignity  and 
good  breeding  to  the  winds,  was  content  to  play  the  part 
of  unofficial  Court  poet.  Tate's  position  was  decidedly 
uncomfortable,  since  he  had  the  mortification  of  having 
his  odes  supplemented  by  those  of  Prior,  which  were 
superior  to  his  own.  In  1700  the  rival  poet  dedicated 
Carmen  Secular e  to  William.  When  Anne  came  to  the 
throne,  he  continued  his  courtly  effusions,  and  fairly 
eclipsed  the  Laureate  by  writing  a  prologue  which  was 
spoken  before  the  Queen  on  her  birthday  in  1704.  Then 
when  Marlborough's  victories  were  raising  the  country 
to  a  high  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  it  was  Prior,  and  not 
Tate,  who  sounded  most  effectually  the  jubilant  note  in 
An  Ode  Humbly  Inscribed  to  the  Queen  on  the  Glorious 
Success  of  Her  Majesty's  Arms. 

To  any  self-respectin??  man,  Tate's  position  would 
have  been  intolerable.     But  the  Laureate,  not  being  a 


106  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

man  of  high  spirit,  calmly  resigned  himself  to  Prior's 
insolence,  and  clung  tenaciously  to  his  post.  Tate's 
official  odes  were  usually  brief.  That  is  about  all  one  can 
say  in  their  favour. 

Tate  was  schooled  in  servility,  and  made  it  his  busi- 
ness to  flatter  all  monarchs,  whether  pre-Revolution  or 
post-Revolution,  whether  Stuart  or  Hanoverian.  He 
wrote  an  epitaph  on  Charles  H,  he  celebrated  the  acces- 
sion of  James,  he  enthusiastically  welcomed  William,  he 
grew  rhapsodical  over  Mary  and  Anne,  and,  it  is  said,  he 
heralded  George  I.  Frequently,  his  strains  were  seraphic. 
For  example,  in  his  funeral  poem  on  the  death  of  Queen 
Mary,  which,  by  the  way,  is  full  of  metaphors  and 
similes  stolen  from  Milton,  and  runs  to  no  fewer  than 
400  lines,  we  are  gravely  informed  that  a  special  recep- 
tion awaited  Her  Majesty  when  she  reached  "  the 
mansion  in  the  skies  " 

With  robes  invested  of  celestial  dies, 
She  towr's  and  treads  the  Empyrean  Skies  ; 
Angelick  choirs,  skill'd  in  triumphant  song, 
Heaven's  battlements  and  crystal  turrets  throng. 
The  signal's  given,  the  eternal  gates  unfold 
Burning  with  jaspar,  wreath'd  in  burnish'd  gold  ; 
And  myriads  now  of  flaming  minds  I  see — 
Pow'rs,  Potentates,  Heaven's  awful  Hierarchy 
In  gradual  orbs  enthron'd,  but  all  divine 
Ineffably  those  sons  of  glory  shine. 

•  •  •  •  • 

From  Bow'rs  of  Amaranth  and  Nectar  streams 
(Mansions  of  Rapture  and  inspiring  Dreams) 
The  Host  of  Saints  Maria's  Triumph  meet, 
Maria,  all,  their  own  Maria  greet. 

One  can  only  lament  the  fact  that  at  a  time  when 
Britain  was  passing  through  one  of  the  most  glorious 
periods  of  her  history,  when  the  splendour  of  Marl- 
borough's genius  was  attracting  the  attention  of  Europe, 
and  when  the  whole  nation  was  borne  along  on  the  top- 
most wave  of  exultation,   it  should  have  fallen  to  so 


NAHUM   TATE  107 

miserable  a  poet  as  Tate  to  give  expression  to  the 
national  joy.  Surely  if  ever  there  was  a  theme  calling 
for  a  lofty  ode,  it  was  the  victory  of  Blenheim,  but  Tate 
celebrated  it  in  the  sheerest  doggerel.  Here  is  a  typi- 
cal specimen  of  the  sort  of  fustian  with  which  he 
commemorated  the  royal  birthday — 

When  Kings  that  make  the  pubhc  good  their  care 

Advance  in  dignity  and  state, 

Their  rise  no  envy  can  create  ; 
Their  subjects  in  the  princely  grandeur  share  : 
For,  hke  the  sun,  the  higher  they  ascend. 
The  farther  their  indulgent  beams  extend. 

Yet  long  before  our  royal  sun 

His  destin'd  course  has  run. 

We're  bless'd  to  see  a  glorious  heir. 

That  shall  the  mighty  loss  repair  ; 

AVhen  he  that  blazes  now  shall  this  low  sphere  resign 

In  a  sublimer  orb  eternally  to  shine. 

A  Cynthia,  too,  adorn'd  with  every  grace 

Of  person  and  of  mind  ; 

And  happy  in  a  starry  race. 

Of  that  auspicious  kind. 

As  joyfully  presage, 

No  want  of  royal  heirs  in  any  future  age. 

Chorus. 
Honour'd  with  the  best  of  Kings, 
And  a  set  of  lovely  springs, 
From  the  royal  fountain  flowing. 
Lovely  streams,   and  ever  growing, 
Happy  Britain  past  expressing, 
Only  learn  to  prize  thy  blessing. 

When  Archbishop  Tillotson  died,  the  Laureate's  "  rever- 
ence for  so  extraordinary  a  subject  "  found  expression  in 
an  elegy  not  only  extolling  the  prelate's  virtues  on  earth, 
but  showing  how  he  was  respected  in  heaven.  The  poem 
is  too  long  to  be  reproduced  in  full,  but  it  concludes  thus — 

From  high,  where  grateful  throngs  about  him  press 
Of  souls  by  him  directed  up  to  bliss  ; 


108  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

His  spirit  looks  down,  and  sees  the  pastoral  chair 
Supply'd,  and  made  his  mild  successor's  care. 

Our  altars  made  so  kind  a  guardian's  charge 
Does,  ev'n  in  Paradise,  his  joys  enlarge  ; 
Pleas'd  that  Eusebia^  does  once  more,  rejoice, 
Once  more  applaud   her   pious  Monarch's   choice. 

The  question  of  poetical  fitness  never  seems  to  have 
given  Tate  so  much  as  a  thought.  He  was  not  a  poet 
who  was  content  to  view  this  wicked  world  in  lofty 
isolation.  In  the  selection  of  themes  wherewith  to  employ 
his  muse,  he  was  absolutely  unbiassed.  He  would  pass 
from  the  noble  to  the  ignoble,  from  the  sublimest  of 
topics  to  the  most  trivial  and  unsavoury.  Though  the 
author  of  Miscellanea  Sacra  ;  or  Poems  on  Divine  and 
Moral  Subjects,  he  was  not  averse  to  dallying  with  the 
prurient  as  is  sufficiently  attested  by  his  verses  on  a 
bawd  who  sat  for  her  picture,  by  his  paraphrase  of 
nauseous  passages  from  Propertius,  and,  above  all,  by 
his  translation,  with  evident  approval,  of  a  Latin  poem  by 
Frascastoro,  which  added  a  new  term  to  medical  science. 

Tate's  masterpiece,  however,  is  Panacea  :  A  Poem  on 
Tea,  which  here  and  there  shows  traces  of  poetic  feeling. 
The  titles  of  some  of  his  other  poems  are  :  The  Rise  and 
Progress  of  Priestcraft  ;  Jeptha's  Vow  ;  Sliding  on  Skates 
in  Hard  Frost ;  Thoughts  on  Human  Life  ;  The  Innocent 
Epicure,  or  Art  of  Angling,  which  sets  forth  minute 
directions  for  fishing  ;  and  On  a  Diseased  Old  Man  who 
Wept  at  the  Thought  of  Leaving  the  World.  "  In  pur- 
suance of  her  Majesty's  (Anne's)  most  gracious  instruc- 
tions," Tate  also  contributed  forty-one  poems  to  the 
Monitor,  a  journal  which  he  published  three  times  a 
week  in  the  years  1712  and  1713,  with  the  object  of 
promoting  religion  and  virtue.  ^ 

But  with  all  his  indefatigable  versifying — his  Laureate 

'  Church  of  England. 

'  Gibber's  Lives  of  the  Poets. 


NAHUM  TATE  109 

odes,  his  elegies,  his  miscellaneous  poems,  his 
encomiums  of  the  rich  and  powerful  in  return  for  hard 
cash — Tate  could  hardly  have  escaped  the  pit  of 
oblivion  had  it  not  been  that  in  a  lucky  moment  he 
joined  forces  with  Dr.  Nicholas  Brady  (who  followed, 
most  incongruously,  the  occupations  of  preacher, 
dramatist,  and  poet),  and  produced  a  new  metrical 
version  of  the  Psalms,  which  ultimately  supplanted  the 
older  version  of  Stemhold  and  Hopkins. 

The  work  was  published  in  1696,  when  William  was 
"  pleased  to  order  in  Council  that  the  said  version  of  the 
Psalms  of  David  in  English  metre  be  .  .  .  permitted  to 
be  used  in  all  churches  and  chapels  and  congregations 
as  shall  think  fit  to  receive  the  same."  The  new  ver- 
sion met  at  first  with  considerable  opposition,  for  the 
old  one  had  been  in  use  for  more  than  130  years,  and, 
despite  its  archaic  phraseology,  was  dear  to  the  hearts 
of  English  churchmen.  For  instance,  Dr.  Beveridge, 
Bishop  of  Asaph,  a  devout  man  and  a  voluminous 
author,  with  more  vehemence  than  reason,  attacked  the 
Tate  and  Brady  version  on  the  score  that  it  was  "  new 
and  modish."  Tate  vigorously  replied  in  an  Essay  on 
Psalmody  (1710),  which  was  dedicated  to  Anne. 
Psalmody,  which  is  apostrophised  as  a  goddess,  a 
princess,  a  charmer,  has  decayed,  Tate  affirms,  because 
of  the  apathy  "  of  our  quality  and  gentry."  "  You 
may  hear  them  in  the  responses  and  reading  psalms  ; 
but  the  giving  out  a  singing  psalm,  seems  to  strike  'em 
dumb."  This  curious  treatise  concludes  in  the  follow- 
ing bombastic  strain  :  "  O  Queen  of  Sacred  Harmony, 
how  powerful  are  thy  charms.  Care  shuns  thy  walks. 
Fear  kindles  with  courage,  and  Joy  sublimes  into 
ecstasy.  What  !  shall  stage  syrens  sing  and  Psalmody 
sleep  !  Theatres  be  thronged,  and  thy  temples  empty  ! 
Shall  thy  votaries  abroad  find  heart  and  voice  to  sing 


110  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

in  the  fiery  furnace  of  persecution,  upon  the  waters  of 
affliction,  and  our  Britons  sit  sullenly  silent  under  their 
vines  and  fig-trees  ?  " 

Tate's  sturdy  defence  of  Psalmody  notwithstanding, 
it  was  only  by  slow  degrees  that  the  version  associated 
with  his  name  and  Brady's  fought  its  way  to  popularity. 
In  1698  two  different  recensions  of  the  new  version 
were  published,  and  for  fully  a  century  editions  based 
on  these  were  constantly  being  issued.  A  Supplement 
to  the  New  Version  of  the  Psalms,  containing  paraphrases 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  Creed,  Commandments,  Canticles, 
etc.,  after  the  precedent  of  Sternhold  and  Hopkins,  and 
several  additional  psalms  in  peculiar  measures,  was 
published  in  1703.  It  has  been  asserted  that  the 
Supplement  was  probably  the  work  of  Tate  alone.  If 
this  be  so,  he  had  some  reason  to  be  proud  of  the 
achievement,  for  the  volume  contains  the  well-known 
paraphrase,  "  While  shepherds  watched." 

What  precisely  was  the  extent  of  Tate's  contribution 
to  the  New  Version  of  the  Psalms  cannot  now  be  ascer- 
tained, but  the  writer  of  the  article  in  the  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography  is  probably  right  in  ascribing  to  him 
"  the  ornate  pieces  of  a  Drydenesque  character  " — a  con- 
jecture that  receives  weighty  confirmation  when  we 
recall  how  well  Tate  adapted  himself  to  Dryden's  style 
in  the  Second  Part  of  Absalom  and  Achitophel.  Among 
the  Drydenesque  pieces  may  be  placed  Psalm  xlii,  the 
first  two  stanzas  of  which  are  as  follows — 

As  pants  the  Hart  for  cooling  Streams, 

When  heated  in  the  chase. 
So  longs  my  Soul,  O  God,  for  thee, 

And  thy  refreshing  Grace. 

For  thee,  my  God,  the  living  God, 

My  thirsty  Soul  doth  pine  ; 
O  when  shall  I  behold  thy  Face, 

Thou  Majesty  Divine  1 


NAHUM   TATE  111 

With  the  exception  of  this  psalm  and  a  few  others,  the 

New   Version  is  the   merest   doggerel.     It   has,   as   one 

authority   puts   it,    "a   frequent   weakness   and   wordy 

inflation  which  must  have  made  many  a  one,  even  in 

that   degenerate   age,    say :     '  The   old    (Stemhold   and 

Hopkins)  is  better.'  "  ^ 

Psalm  xlvi,  on  which  Luther  founded  his  famous  hymn, 

Ein  feste  Burg  ist  unser  Gott,  "  A  fortress  strong  is  God 

our  Lord,"  the  Tate  and  Brady  version  renders  thus — 

God  is  our  Refuge  in  Distress, 
A  present  Help  when  Dangers  press  ; 
In  him  undaunted  we'll  confide  : 
Tho'  Earth  were  from  her  Centre  tost. 
And  Mountains  in  the  Ocean  lost. 
Torn  piece-meal  by  the  roaring  Tide. 

Surely  the  bathos  of  these  lines  could  hardly  be  excelled. 
Equally  grotesque  is  the  following  verse  from  Psalm  civ — 

The  Field's  tame  Beasts  are  thither  Led, 
Weary  with  Labour,  faint  with  Drought, 

And  Asses  on  wild  mountains  bred 

Have  sense  to  find  these  Currents  out. 

In  Psalm  cv  there  occur  the  following  lines — 

In  putrid  floods  throughout  the  Land 

The  pest  of  Frogs  was  bred  ; 
From  noisom  Fens  sent  up  to  croak 

At  Pharoah's  Board  and  Bed 

In  Psalm  cxlviii  the  "  dreadful  Whales  "  and 

Fish  that  through  the  Sea 
Glide  swift  with  glitt'ring  Scales. 

are  summoned  to  praise  the  Almighty  ;    while  in 

Psalm  cxiv  we  learn  that 

Old  Jordan's  Streams,  surprised  with   Awe, 
Retreated  to  their  Fountain's  Head, 

and  that,  when  danger  was  near, 

The  taller  Mountains  skipp'd  like  Rams 

while  ^ 

The  Hills  skipp'd  after  them  like  Lambs. 
^   Ker's  Psalms  in  History  and  Biography,  202. 


112  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  fill  many  pages  with  sense- 
less rhyme  culled  from  this  wretched  version  of  the 
Psalms,  but  probably  enough  has  been  quoted  to  show 
how  skilled  Tate  and  Brady  were  in  the  gentle  art  of 
sinking  in  poetry. 

Another  feature  of  their  rendering  of  the  Psalms  is 
the  veiled  political  allusions  with  which  it  is  interlarded. 
As  they  wrought  at  their  version,  Tate  and  Brady  seem 
to  have  been  imbued  with  a  desire  to  bring  it,  wherever 
possible,  into  line  with  the  political  sentiments  of  the 
average  member  of  the  Church  of  England.  Again  and 
again  one  comes  across  a  psalm  with  an  allusion  to  con- 
temporary events.  In  the  fortieth  verse  of  Psalm  cvii 
occurs  these  lines — 

The  prince  who  sHghts  what  God  commands 
Exposed  to  scorn  must  leave  his  throne. 

Considering  how  glaring  were  its  faults,  and  how  insigni- 
ficant its  merits,  it  will  never  cease  to  be  matter  for 
wonder  how  Tate  and  Brady's  version  of  the  Psalms 
remained  the  high-water  mark  of  devotional  praise  for 
more  than  a  century. 

It  is  stated  by  Johnson  that  Tate  was  dismissed  from 
the  Laureateship  when  George  I  came  to  the  throne,  and 
that  Nicholas  Rowe  was  appointed  in  his  stead.  There 
has  always  been  uncertainty  about  the  point.  The 
fact,  however,  that  Tate  at  this  time  was  hiding  from 
his  creditors  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  Mint  rather  lends 
colour  to  the  supposition.  A  bankrupt  Laureate  trying 
to  evade  the  penalty  of  his  improvidence  was  hardly  a 
fit  person  to  hold  a  position  at  Court.  But  if  the  facts 
are,  as  Johnson  would  have  us  believe,  Tate  could  not 
have  been  long  a  deposed  poet,  for  he  died  on 
12th  August,  1715,  and  was  buried  in  St.  George's, 
Southwark. 

Swift  reproached  Tate  with  being  too  prolific  ;    while 


NAHUM  TATE  113 

Pope   dubbed   him   the   poetical   child   of   Ogilby,    and 
conferred  on  him  ignoble  fame  in  The  Dunciad — 

The  Bard  whom  pilfer'd  pastorals  renown, 

^\^lo  turns  a  Persian  tale  for  half  a  crown. 

Just  writes  to  make  his  barrenness  appear, 

And  strains  from  hard-bound  brains,  eight  Unes  a  year. 

He,  who  still  wanting,  though  he  lives  on  theft. 

Steals  much,  spends  little,  yet  has  nothing  left  : 

And  he,  who  now  to  sense,  now  nonsense  leaning 

Means  not,  but  blunders  round  a  meaning  ; 

And  he,  whose  fustian's  so  sublimely  bad, 

It  is  not  poetry,  but  prose  run  mad. 

All  these,  my  modest  satire,  bade  translate 

And  own'd  that  nine  such  poets  made  a  Tate. 


8— (2341) 


CHAPTER  VII 

NICHOLAS   ROWE 

Nicholas  Rowe  was  the  first  of  the  Hanoverian 
Laureates  ;  but  between  him  and  Tate,  the  last  Court 
poet  of  the  Stuarts,  there  is  in  the  matter  of  poetry, 
and,  indeed,  in  that  of  the  drama  as  well,  no  sharp 
dividing  line.  The  d3mastic  change  was  not  accom- 
panied by  any  substantial  modification  in  the  traditions 
of  the  Laureateship.  Rowe's  verse  was  more  spon- 
taneous, more  rhythmical,  more  dignified,  and  his  plays 
more  skilfully  conceived  and  more  humanly  interesting  ; 
but,  alike  in  the  one  and  in  the  other,  he  perpetuated, 
in  the  main,  the  characteristics  of  the  school  of 
Shadwell  and  Tate. 

The  difference  between  Rowe  and  his  immediate 
predecessor — and  there  was  a  ver}'  appreciable  differ- 
ence— lay  not  so  much  in  ability  as  in  character  and 
outlook.  It  is  impossible  to  have  much  respect  for 
Tate  ;  but  with  Rowe  it  is  far  otherwise.  A  man  of 
marked  individuality,  high  moral  purpose,  and  poHshed 
and  captivating  manners,  he  gained  a  place  in  the  social 
hierarchy  to  which  Tate  could  never  aspire  ;  while  his 
varied  interests,  his  informative  talk,  and  his  classical 
attainments  attracted  the  clever  and  the  learned.  His 
enthusiasm,  however,  for  the  treasures  of  antiquity 
was  coupled  with  an  intense  love  of  his  own  time.  In 
all  he  wrote  and  in  all  he  did,  there  was  the  note 
of  modernity.  Take  him  as  a  whole,  Rowe  is  a 
considerable  figure  in  the  history  of  English  literature. 

Well-born,  and  endowed  with  a  sound  constitution 
and  some  wealth,  Rowe  began  his  career  under  favour- 
able auspices.  The  son  of  a  barrister  and  a  sergeant- 
at-law,  he  was  born  at  Little  Barford,  Bedfordshire,  in 

114 


NICHOLAS    ROWE 
After  a  portrait  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  115 

1674,  the  year  in  which  Milton  died.  At  the  age  of 
fourteen  he  entered  Westminster  School,  which  was  then 
in  charge  of  the  famous  Dr.  Richard  Busby,  a  pedagogue 
who  combined  piety  with  learning,  and  kindness  with 
an  unsparing  application  of  the  birch.  In  becoming  a 
scholar  at  Westminster,  Rowe  had  everything  to  hope 
for  from  Busby's  tuition,  that  celebrated  teacher  having 
had  among  his  pupils  men  of  letters  like  Dryden  and 
Locke,  and  divines  of  the  calibre  of  Atterbury  and  South. 

Unfortunately,  he  was  removed  before  his  schooling 
was  complete.  Being  destined  for  his  father's  pro- 
fession, he  became  a  student  at  the  Middle  Temple,  and 
in  due  course  was  called  to  the  Bar.  Rowe  seems  to 
have  had  the  makings  of  a  good  lawyer.  Lord  Chief 
Justice  Treby  thought  highly  of  his  talents  ;  and,  in 
after  years,  Rowe  told  Welwood  that  it  had  been  his 
ambition  not  merely  to  know  the  law  as  a  collection  of 
statutes  or  customs,  but  as  "  a  system  founded  upon 
right  reason  and  calculated  for  the  good  of  mankind."  ^ 

But,  however  much  Rowe  may  have  reverenced  the 
majesty  of  law,  it  was  soon  clear  that  a  legal  career  was 
not  in  accord  with  personal  choice.  The  death  of  his 
father  in  1692  placed  an  income  of  £300  a  year  at  his 
disposal,  and  he  resolved  to  forsake  law  for  literature. 
This  step  was  not  unpremeditated.  Simultaneously  with 
his  legal  studies,  he  had  read  with  avidity  the  most 
notable  dramas,  both  ancient  and  modern,  and  his 
crowning  ambition  was  to  reap  wealth  and  fame  by 
writing  for  the  stage. 

Rowe  had  some  years  to  wait  ere  his  hopes  could  be 
realised  ;  but  the  time  was  not  lost.  Hard  study  was 
combined  with  much  practice  of  the  art  of  composition, 
and  in  1700  he  had  his  reward.  In  that  year  his  blank- 
verse  tragedy,  The  Ambitions  Stepmother,  was  acted  at 

*  Welwood's  pref.  to  Rowe's  Lucan,  p.  38. 


116  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  The  omens  were  favourable. 
It  is  true  that  the  scene  was  laid  in  far  Persepolis,  and 
that  the  characters  were  crude ;  but  the  acting  of 
Betterton  and  Mrs.  Bracegirdle  (with  whom,  according 
to  Cibber,  the  young  dramatist  fell  in  love),  brought  the 
piece  as  much  success  as  could  be  expected  in  the  case 
of  a  first  effort.  Congreve  characterised  the  play  as 
"  a  very  good  one,"  and  with  such  praise,  the  author 
might  well  rest  content. 

About  this  time  Rowe  commenced  a  friendship  with 
Pope  and  Addison,  which  was  to  last  as  long  as  life 
itself.  To  Pope,  he  was  the  "  best  of  men,"  though  on 
one  occasion  the  author  of  The  Dunciad  was  heard  to 
endorse  the  opinion  of  Addison  that  Rowe  was  too 
facetious  ever  to  become  a  sincere  friend.  But,  how- 
ever that  may  be.  Pope  spent  some  of  the  happiest 
hours  of  his  life  in  the  dramatist's  society.  Rowe  was 
the  merriest  of  companions  and,  if  one  may  judge  by 
a  couplet  in  Pope's  Farewell  to  London,  one  of  the  most 
convivial — 

To  drink  and  droll  be  Rowe  allow 'd 
Till  the  third  watchman's  toll. 

Pope,  too,  thought  well  of  Rowe's  tragedies,  and  was 
wont  to  mention  him  along  with  Southerno,  because  of 
his  skill  in  depicting  the  emotions. 

Rowe's  second  play,  Tamerlane,  was  produced  in  1702. 
On  this  tragedy,  says  Cibber,  he  staked  his  dramatic 
reputation,  and,  on  the  whole,  with  good  reason.  By 
far  the  most  popular  of  all  his  plays,  it  had  the  notable 
distinction  of  being  acted  annually  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre  on  5th  November  (the  anniversary  of  the  Gun- 
powder Plot  and  of  the  landing  of  William  III)  until 
Waterloo  year.  The  unbounded  enthusiasm  with  which 
Tamerlane  was  greeted,  was  due  rather  to  the  fact  that 
its  sentiments  harmonised  with  the  dominant  poHtical 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  117 

temper  of  the  age  than  to  its  intrinsic  worth,  though 
this  was  not  to  be  despised. 

Wilham  III,  whom  Johnson,  with  fiery  impetuosity, 
described  as  "  one  of  the  most  worthless  scoundrels  that 
ever  existed,"  Rowe,  with  WTiiggish  pride,  selected  as 
the  prototype  of  the  hero  Tamerlane.  In  his  dedica- 
tion he  praises  William's  "  piety,  moderation,  fatherly 
love  of  his  people,  and  hatred  of  tyranny  and  oppres- 
sion," a  description  to  which  Gibbon  and,  in  later  times, 
Prescott  took  exception.  The  reprobate,  Bajazet,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  intended  to  represent  Britain's  old 
enemy,  Louis  XIV,  it  being  "  the  fashion  of  the  times," 
says  Johnson,  "  to  identify  with  the  French  monarch  " 
all  that  could  create  horror  and  detestation. 

But  the  political  ardour  which  accounted  for  the  early 
success  of  Tamerlane  speedily  cooled,  and  there  came  a 
day  when  Rowe's  countrymen  more  admired  the 
ingenuousness  of  Bajazet,  viUain  though  he  was,  than 
the  smug  complacency  of  the  hero. 

As  a  play,  Tamerlane  has  never  ranked  high.  "  A 
heavy  declamatory  production  of  the  cast-iron  school," 
was  the  opinion  of  Macready,  who  acted  it  at  Covent 
Garden  in  1819  ;  while  Mrs.  Inchbald  observed  that  the 
sorrows  of  love  in  this  play  were  interesting  to  read, 
but  childishly  insipid  in  the  action.  She  added,  how- 
ever, that  the  Arpasia  of  Mrs.  Siddons  inspired  "  a 
degree  of  horrible  wonder  in  the  dying  scene."  ^  And 
this  is  borne  out  by  Macready,  who  says  the  great 
actress  once  "  gave  such  terrible  reality  to  the  few 
convulsive  words  she  tried  to  utter,  as  she  sank  a  life- 
less heap  before  her  murderer,  that  the  audience  insisted 
on  the  manager's  appearance  to  be  assured  that  she  was 
still  alive."  2 

^  Pref.  to   Tamerlane,   British   Theatre,  x. 
*  Reminiscences,  i,  202. 


118  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

"  You  would  have  enjoyed,"  wrote  Hannah  More  in 
1782,  "  seeing  Johnson  take  me  by  the  hand  in  the 
middle  of  dinner,  and  repeat,  with  no  small  enthusiasm, 
many  passages  from  The  Fair  Penitent."  This  was 
Rowe's  third  tragedy  (1703).  Based  on  Massinger's 
Fatal  Dowry,  it  yet  fell,  in  Scott's  opinion,  as  far  below 
the  work  of  the  earlier  dramatist  "  as  the  boldest  transla- 
tion can  sink  below  the  most  spirited  original."^ 
Johnson,  as  has  been  noted,  was  more  cordial.  "  There 
is,"  he  wrote,  "  scarcely  any  work  of  any  poet  at  once 
so  interesting  by  the  fable  and  so  delightful  in  the 
language."  2 

Rowe  promised  in  the  prologue  that  his  auditors  would 
meet  "  with  sorrows  like  their  own."  It  was  this  cheap 
sentimentalism  rather  than  dramatic  power  which 
accounted  for  the  extraordinary  popularity  of  the  piece, 
for  it  was  still  being  acted  in  the  year  1825.  Every 
ambitious  actress  wished  to  play  the  part  of  the  heroine, 
Calista,  who,  however,  was  no  penitent,  since  her  sorrow, 
as  Mrs.  Inchbald  shrewdly  remarked,  was  not  that  of  con- 
trition, but  was  the  result  of  her  lover's  abated  passion. 
Then  there  was  the  "  villainous  seducer  and  malicious 
vain  boaster,"  Lothario,  a  part  which  baffled  most  of 
the  actors  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Nevertheless,  it 
was  the  original  of  many  stage  scoundrels  and  romance 
heroes.  Richardson  much  admired  The  Fair  Penitent, 
and  when  he  set  himself  to  portray  the  characters  of 
Clarissa  Harlowe  and  Lovelace  in  his  great  novel,  it  was 
Calista  and  Lothario  that  he  chose  as  models. 

In  1706  Rowe  brought  out  the  classical  tragedy  of 
Ulysses,  and  in  1707  The  Royal  Convert.  The  latter, 
although  based  on  early  British  history,  was  sufficiently 
modern  to  contain  a  eulogy  of  Queen  Anne,  and  of  the 

^   Essay  on  Drama. 

*  Livfs  of  tht  Posts  (essay  on  Rowe). 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  119 

union  of  the  Parliaments  of  England  and  Scotland, 
which  had  just  been  consummated.  Both  plays  were 
only  moderately  successful,  but  the  popular  favour  re- 
turned in  full  measure  with  the  production  of  Jane 
Shore.  It  ran  for  nineteen  nights  (1713-14)  at  Drury 
Lane,  and  was  for  many  years  almost  as  much  a  stock- 
piece  as  Tamerlane  and  The  Fair  Penitent.  Like  these 
plays,  it  also  obtained,  through  translation,  some  vogue 
in  France.  Genest  describes  no  fewer  than  twenty-two 
performances,  and  points  out  that  Mrs.  Siddons  acquired 
much  fame  in  the  part  of  the  heroine.  Mrs.  Inchbald, 
again,  says  that  Jane  Shore  has  "  drawn  tears  from  the 
rich  and  the  poor  for  these  hundred  years  past  ;  and 
will  never  cease  having  power  over  the  hearts  of  an 
audience  while  an  actress  can  be  found  to  represent  her 
and  her  sorrows  with  apparent  truth " — a  prophecy 
which  has  not  been  fulfilled. 

Rowe  wished  it  to  be  known  that  Jane  Shore  was 
written  "  in  imitation  of  Shakespeare's  style,"  but  Pope 
considered  that  the  only  resemblance  lay  in  a  single  line — 

And  so  good  morrow  t'ye,  good  master  lieutenant  1 
The  author  of  The  Dunciad,  however,  wrote  an  epilogue* 
which  Rowe  rejected.  Johnson  never  wept  at  any 
tragedy  but  Jane  Shore,  ^  and  Mrs.  Piozzi  says  that  the 
only  pathetic  passage  in  poetry  she  ever  heard  the 
Doctor  applaud  was  Jane  Shore's  exclamation  in  the 
last  act — 

Forgive   me  !      hut   forgive   me.  * 

Lady  Jane  Grey,  Rowe's  last  tragedy,  appeared  in 
1715,  and  was  chiefly  memorable  because  it  revealed  a 
disposition  on  the  part  of  the  author  to  break  away  from 
the  standards  of  the  later  Restoration  dramatists,  and 
to  create  not  only  a  healthier  moral  tone,  but  a  livelier 

1  Memoir,  pref.  to  Hannah  Mora's  Works,  i,  249. 
"  Johnson's  Miscellanies,  i,  283. 


120  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

sense  of  patriotism.  One  has  only  to  compare  a  play  of 
Southerne's  with  Rowe's  last  tragedy  to  appreciate  the 
transformation  for  the  better  that  had  been  brought 
about  since  the  publication  of  Jeremy  Collier's  Short 
View  of  the  Immorality  of  the  English  Stage  seventeen 
years  before.  But,  despite  its  healthier  moral  tone, 
Lady  Jane  Grey  was  not  a  success.  The  character  of 
the  heroine  was  somewhat  artificially  drawn,  and  the 
hearts  of  Rowe's  patrons  were  not  melted  as  they  had 
been  by  the  "  sufferings  of  the  low-bom  and  guilty  Shore." 

It  was  once  represented  to  Pope  that  Rowe  was  too 
grave  a  man  to  write  comedies.  "  He  grave  !  "  replied 
the  astonished  poet,  "  why  he  will  laugh  all  day  long  ; 
he  will  do  nothing  else  than  laugh."  Pope's  remark, 
doubtless,  was  quite  apposite,  for  he  knew  the  dramatist 
well,  but  the  fact  remains  that  Rowe's  single  attempt  at 
comedy  was  disappointing.  The  Biter  appeared  in  1704, 
and  the  author  is  said  to  have  laughed  "  with  great 
vehemence  "  at  his  own  wit.  The  piece  ran  for  six  days, 
but,  as  one  writer  puts  it,  "  the  six  days  running  it 
out  of  breath,  it  sickened  and  expired."  ^  Congreve, 
who  had  praised  his  earliest  tragedy,  condemned  his  first 
and  only  comedy  :  "  Rowe  wrote  a  foolish  farce  called 
The  Biter,  which  was  damned."  ^  The  curious  origin 
of  the  title  of  this  comedy  is  thus  explained  by  Addison  : 
"  There  is  an  ingenious  tribe  of  men  sprung  up  of  late 
years  who  are  for  making  April  fools  every  day  in  the 
year.  These  gentlemen  are  commonly  distinguished  by 
the  name  of  Biters  ;  a  race  of  men  that  are  perpetually 
employed  in  laughing  at  those  mistakes  which  are  of 
their  own  production."^ 

Paradoxical  it  may  appear,  but  it  is  none  the  less  true 
that  no  one  incurred  heavier  responsibility  for  the  decline 

*  Rosciits   Anglicanus,  p.  62. 

2  G.  M.  Berkeley's  Literary  Relics,  2ud  ed..  p.  342. 

»  Spectator,  No.  47. 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  121 

in  popular  favour  of  Rowe's  tragedies  than  Rowe  him- 
self. Their  original  vogue  was  not  due  to  the  pre- 
sentation of  any  profound  view  of  human  life,  or  to 
masterly  delineation  of  character,  or  to  deftness  of 
literary  workmanship,  but  to  the  fact  that  they  pro- 
vided a  tawdry  sentimentalism  which  suited  the  taste 
of  an  age  that  was  slowly  liberating  itself  from  the 
sinister  influence  of  low  and  artificial  forms  of  dramatic 
art.  Once  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  were  presented  to 
the  public  in  their  pristine  purity,  a  reaction  was  bound 
to  set  in  against  the  dramatists  of  the  Restoration  and 
Georgian  eras. 

Rowe,  quite  unconsciously,  was  one  of  the  most 
effective  instruments  in  bringing  about  this  welcome 
transformation.  By  publishing  the  first  critical  edition 
of  Shakespeare's  plays,  he  gave  an  impetus  to  the  study 
of  the  writings  of  the  prince  of  dramatists  which,  in  the 
long  run,  operated  most  powerfully  and  salutarily  on 
the  fortunes  of  the  drama  in  this  country.  Rowe's 
predecessors  in  the  Laureateship  produced  versions  of 
the  principal  Shakespearian  plays,  but  the  text  was  so 
corrupt,  and  so  overlaid  with  the  creations  of  their  own 
poetic  fancy,  that  they  did  little  more  than  remhid  a 
degenerate  age  that  Shakespeare  once  lived. 

Rowe's  efforts  towards  the  popularisation  of  Shakes- 
peare proceeded  on  constructive  lines.  It  is  true  that 
he  failed  to  provide  what  was  essential  before  all  else — 
a  sound  text.  His  six-volume  edition  of  the  plays  was, 
unfortunately,  based  on  the  Fourth  Folio  of  1685  with 
its  half-dozen  spurious  pieces,  which  he  merely  trans- 
ferred from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  Neither  the  First 
Folio  of  1623  nor  any  of  the  pre-existent  quartos,  with 
the  exception  of  that  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  were  con- 
sulted by  him.  Consequently,  his  text  was  seriously 
vitiated.     But  he  corrected  a  number  of  errors  which 


122  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

brought  his  edition  into  hne  with  the  First  Folio.  He 
also  smoothed  the  path  of  the  student  by  modernising 
the  spelling  of  Shakespeare's  text,  and  by  correcting  the 
grammar  and  punctuation  ;  while  he  added  enormously 
to  the  intelligent  performance  of  the  plays  by  prefixing 
a  list  of  dramatis  personae  to  each  drama,  by  dividing 
and  numbering  the  acts  and  scenes  on  common-sense 
principles,  and  by  marking  the  entrances  and  exits  of 
the  characters. 

Hardly  less  important  was  Rowe's  work  in  elucidating 
Shakespeare's  life-story.  The  first  editor  of  Shakespeare 
worthy  of  the  name,  he  was  also  the  first  to  make 
important  contributions  to  his  biography.  The  memoir, 
which  he  prefixed  to  his  edition  of  the  great  dramatist's 
works,  is  of  abiding  interest  and  value,  partly  because 
it  witnesses  to  Rowe's  shrewd  and  skilful  handling  of 
his  biographic  materials,  and  partly  because  it  embodies 
traditions  which,  at  his  request,  Betterton  collected 
while  on  a  visit  to  Shakespeare's  birthplace. 

Thomas  Hearne,  the  antiquary,  when  he  heard  of 
Rowe's  elevation,  in  1715,  to  the  Laureateship,  wrote  : 
"  This  Rowe  is  a  great  Whig,  and  but  a  mean  poet  "  ^ — 
a  pithy  remark  which  sums  up  quite  accurately  Rowe's 
place  in  politics  and  poetry.  As  to  his  Whiggism,  there 
can  be  hardly  any  doubt,  though  Pope  was  fond  of 
relating  a  story  implying  that  his  friend  was  not  above 
seeking  favours  from  his  political  adversaries.  He  is 
said  to  have  sought  employment  from  the  arch-enemy 
of  the  Whigs,  Lord  Oxford,  who  advised  him  to  learn 
Spanish.  Rowe  acted  on  the  advice,  but  on  informing 
Oxford  that  he  had  mastered  the  language,  his  lordship 
blandly  remarked  :  "  Then,  sir,  I  envy  you  the  pleasure 
of  reading  Don  Quixote  in  the  original."  ^ 

'    Remains,  ii,   16. 

'  Spence's   Anecdotes,  p.   174. 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  123 

But  so  far  from  being  a  compromising  Whig,  the  out- 
ward events  of  Rowe's  career  during  the  later  years  of 
Anne's  reign  and  after  the  succession  of  George  I,  rather 
emphasise  the  observation  of  Spence  that  his  partisan- 
ship was  such  that  he  would  not  even  converse  with 
Tories.  ^  When  the  Duke  of  Queensberry  was  Secretary 
of  State  for  Scotland  in  Anne's  reign,  Rowe  became  his 
secretary,  and  acted  in  that  capacity  till  the  nobleman's 
death  in  1711.  Thereafter  Rowe  seems  to  have  lived  in 
retirement,  a  mode  of  life  which  his  politics  probably 
forced  upon  him  ;  but  with  the  coming  of  George,  and 
the  return  to  power  of  his  political  friends,  his  prospects 
brightened,  and  honours  and  offices  came  his  way.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  chose  him  to  be  Clerk  of  his  Council, 
and  Lord  Chancellor  Macclesfield  installed  him  Clerk  of 
the  Presentations.  He  also  became  one  of  the  land 
surveyors  of  the  Customs  of  the  Port  of  London  at  a 
salary  of  £200  per  annum. 

Finally,  in  August,  1715,  he  was  made  Poet  Laureate 
in  succession  to  Nahum  Tate.  He  had  looked  with 
envious  eyes  on  the  post  as  a  fitting  crown  to  his  literary 
career,  but  destiny  had  decreed  that  his  tenure  would  be 
short,  and  the  poetic  fruits  far  from  luscious.  Gray,  in 
one  of  his  Letters,  makes  the  short-sighted  and  irrelevant 
remark  that  Rowe  was  "  the  last  man  of  character  that 
had  the  office."  ^  In  moral  robustness  he  was,  no 
doubt,  far  superior  to  Shadwell  and  Tate,  but  the  ques- 
tion is  :  Did  he  adorn  the  office  from  the  poetical  stand- 
point ?  One  thing  he  did  :  he  turned  out  the  official 
odes  with  unfailing  punctualit}^,  for,  in  the  words  of 
"  Peter  Pindar," 

Know,  reader,  that  the  Laureate's  post  subhme. 
Is  destined  to  record  in  tuneful  rhyme, 

^  Spence' s  Anecdotes,  p.   3. 
«   Utiers,  i,  373. 


124  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

The  deeds  of  British  monarchs,  twice  a  year. 
If  great — how  happy  is  the  tuneful  tongue, 
If  pitiful  (as  Shakespeare  says),  the  song 
"  Must  suckle  fools,  and  chronicle  small  beer." 

Rowe's  verses  are  better  than  Shadwell's  and  much 
superior  to  Tate's,  but  after  all  this  is  not  saying  much. 
Like  much  of  the  poetry  of  the  critical  school,  it  is  duU, 
unimaginative,  and  often  bombastic,  and  leaves  the 
reader  strangely  unmoved.  But  a  strong  patriotic  note 
and  a  love  of  peace  are  discernible  in  most  of  his  official 
odes.  Here  are  three  stanzas  from  an  ode  which  Rowe 
wrote  for  the  birthday  of  the  newly-crowned  George  I — 

Lay  the  flowery  garlands  by. 

Ever-blooming  gentle  May  ! 
Other  honours  now  are  nigh  : 

Other  honours  see  we  pay. 

Majesty  and  great  renown 
Wait  thy  beamy  brow  to  crown. 
Parent  of  our  hero,   thou, 
George  on  Britain  didst  bestow. 
Thee  the  trumpet,  thee  the  drum, 
With  the  plumy  helm,  become  ; 
Thee  the  spear  and  shining  shield. 
With  every  trophy  of  the  warlike  field. 

Call  thy  better  blessings  forth, 
For  the  honour  of  his  birth  ; 
Still  the  voice  of  loud  commotion, 

Bid  complaining  murmurs  cease. 
Lay  the  billows  of  the  ocean  ; 

And  compose  the  land  in  peace. 

In  the  Birthday  ode  for  1718,  George  is  hailed  as  "  the 
great  mediator,"  and  the  Laureate  invokes  for  him  the 
praise  of  Europe. 

To  mighty  George,  that  heals  thy  wounds. 

That  names  thy  kings  and  marks  thy  bounds, 

The  joyful  voice,  O  Europe  raise  : 

In  the  great  mediator's  praise. 

Let  all  thy  various  tongues  combine. 

And  Britain's  festival  be  thine. 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  125 

A  slightly  higher  poetical  standard  is  reached  in  the  New 

Year  ode  for  the  year  1717 — 

Winter  I    thou  hoary  venerable  sire. 

All  richly  in  thy  furry  mantle  clad, 
What  thoughts  of  mirth  can  feeble  age  inspire, 
To  make  thy  careful,  wrinkled  brow  so  glad  ? 
Now  I  see  the  reason  plain, 
Now  I  see  thy  jolly  train  ; 
Snowy-headed  winter  leads. 
Spring  and  summer  next  succeeds, 
Yellow  autumn  brings  the  rear, 
Thou  art  father  of  the  year. 
While  from  the  frosty  mellow'd  earth 
Abounding  plenty  takes  her  birth. 
The  conscious  sire  exulting  sees 
The  seasons  spread  their  rich  increase  ; 
So  dusky  night  and  chaos  smil'd 
On  beauteous  form,  their  lovely  child. 

O  fair  variety  ! 
What  bliss  thou  dost  supply  ! 

That  Rowe  was  not  devoid  of  lyrical  power  is  clearly 
shown  in  Colin's  Complaint,  a  song  which  Goldsmith, 
greatly  daring,  described  as  "  better  than  any  of  the 
kind  in  our  language."  ^  Johnson  quoted  it  no  fewer 
than  three  times  in  his  Letters,  ^  while  Shenstone  tried 
hard  to  imitate  it.  The  despairing  shepherd  mentioned 
in  the  song,  of  which  the  following  are  the  first  two 
verses,  is  believed  to  have  been  Addison — 

Despairing  beside  a  clear  stream, 

A  shepherd  forsaken  was  laid  ; 
And  while  a  false  nymph  was  his  theme, 

A  willow  supported  his  head. 
The  wind  that  blew  over  the  plain. 

To  his  sighs  with  a  sigh  did  reply  ; 
And  the  brook,  in  return  to  his  pain. 

Ran  mournfully  murmuring  by. 

"  Alas,  silly  swain  that  I  was  !  " 
Thus  sadly  complaining  he  cried  ; 

"  When  first  I  beheld  that  fair  face 
'Twere  better  by  far  I  had  died. 

1  Works,  iii,  439. 

»  Letlers,  ii,  32,  136,  139. 


126  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

She  talked,  and  I  blessed  the  dear  tongue  ; 

When  she  smiled  'twas  a  pleasure  too  great  : 
I  listened  and  cried  when  she  sung, 
'  Was  nightingale  ever  so  sweet  ?  '  " 

In  his  declining  years,  Rowe  devoted  much  time  to 
a  verse  translation  of  Lucan's  Pharsalia,  on  which  his 
hopes  of  poetical  renown  were  fondly  centred.  Posterity 
does  not  read  Rowe's  Pharsalia,  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  about  the  commotion  which  it  caused  when  it 
posthumously  appeared  in  1718,  prefixed  by  a  dedication 
to  George  I,  and  a  grandiose  memoir  by  Dr.  Welwood. 
Every  cultivated  person  read  it,  and  nearly  all  praised  it. 
The  finical  classicism  of  Bentley  had,  of  course,  to  rebel 
against  Rowe's  version  ;  but,  with  this  notable  excep- 
tion, it  called  forth  an  unmeasured  chorus  of  approval. 
"  One  of  the  greatest  productions  of  English  poetry  " 
was  Johnson's  sweeping  verdict.  Joseph  Warton  thought 
the  translation  better  than  the  original.  Addison  com- 
mended Rowe's  "  admirable  specimens  of  Lucan,"  in 
which  he  "  not  only  kept  up  the  fire  of  the  original,  but 
delivered  the  sentiments  with  greater  perspicuity,  and 
in  a  finer  turn  of  phrase  and  verse."  ^ 

The  fact  that  Lucan's  narrative  of  the  stupendous 
conflict  between  Pompey  and  Caesar  for  the  empire  of 
the  world  has  been  criticised  as  frequently  grandiloquent 
and  lacking  in  perspicacity,  gives  point  to  Warton's 
remark.  Rowe's  version  is  a  loose  paraphrase  rather 
than  a  literal  rendering  of  Lucan.  But  whatever  stric- 
tures are  passed  upon  it,  there  remains  the  significant 
fact  that  it  enjoyed  wide  popularity  for  more  than  a 
century.  Between  its  first  issue  in  1718  and  1822,  no 
fewer  than  nine  editions  appeared,  which  is  saying  much 
in  the  case  of  a  poem  dealing  with  a  classical  theme. 

When  little  more  than  midwaj^  through  life,  Rowe's 

'    The  Freeholder,  No.  40. 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  127 

sun  hastened  to  its  setting.  Famous,  wealthy,  the  idol 
of  the  theatre,  the  friend  of  the  noble  and  the  great, 
the  companion  of  Addison,  Steele,  Pope,  and  Swift,  his 
last  years  were  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  sordid  end  of 
Tate.  Mrs.  Inchbald  was  wont  to  quote  the  following 
lines  from  his  tragedy  of  Tamerlane  as  describing  pre- 
cisely "  that  joyful  fortitude  "  which  Rowe  is  said  to 
have  experienced  in  his  dying  moments — 

Nor  has  my  soul 
One  unrepented  guilt  upon  remembrance, 
To  make  me  dread  the  justice  of  hereafter  ; 
But  standing  now  on  the  last  verge  of  life, 
Boldly  I  view  the  vast  abyss,  eternity, 
Eager  to  plunge,  and  leave  my  cares  behind. 

When  the  end  came — 6th  December,  1718 — Nicholas 
Amherst,  a  brother  Whig  bard,  lamented  the  dead  Poet 
Laureate  in  these  lines — 

Enough  for  me  that  Congreve  was  his  friend, 
That  Garth,  and  Steele,  and  Addison  commend, 
That  Brunswick  with  the  bays  his  temple  bound. 
And  Parker  with  immortal  honours  crowned. 

Rowe  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  Poet's  Corner,  West- 
minster Abbey.  Over  his  grave  was  reared  an  imposing 
monument  surmounted  by  a  bust,  the  handiwork  of 
Rysbrack,  On  the  monument  is  inscribed  the  words  : 
"  To  the  memory  of  Nicholas  Rowe,  Esq.,  who  died  in 
1718,  aged  forty-five ;  and  of  Charlotte,  his  only 
daughter,  wife  of  Henry  Fane,  Esq.,  who,  inheriting  her 
father's  spirit,  and  amiable  in  her  own  innocence  and 
beauty,  died  in  the  twenty-fifty  year  of  her  age,  1739." 

Pope  wrote  an  epitaph  which  is  extant  in  two  forms. 
As  printed  in  his  Miscellanies  it  extends  to  eight  lines, 
but  the  version  inscribed  on  Rowe's  monument  numbers 
fourteen,  and  is  as  follows — 

Thy  reliques,  Rowe,  to  this  sad  shrine  we  trust, 
And  near  thy  Shakespeare  place  thy  honour'd  bust. 


128  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Oh  !  next  him  skilled  to  draw  the  tender  tear, 
For  never  heart  felt  passion  more  sincere  ; 
To  nobler  sentiments  to  fire  the  brave, 
For  never  Briton  more  disdain 'd  a  slave. 
Peace  to  thy  gentle  shade,  and  endless  rest  : 
Blest  in  thy  genius,  in  thy  love  too  blest  ! 
And  blest,  that  timely  from  our  scene  removed, 
Thy  soul  enjoys  the  liberty  it  loved. 
To  these  so  mourn'd  in  death,  so  loved  in  life, 
The  childless  parent,  and  the  widow'd  ^vife 
With  tears  inscribes  this  monumental  stone 
That  holds  their  ashes,  and  expects  her  own. 

This  epitaph  is  decidedly  inferior  to  the  original  one, 
which  began — 

Thy,  reliques,  Rowe,  to  this  fair  urn  v/e  trust. 
And,  sacred,  place  by  Dryden's  awful  dust, 

and  concluded — 

One  grateful  woman  to  thy  fame  supplies 
What  a  whole  thankless  land  to  his  denies. 

The  reference  here  is  to  the  Laureate's  widow,  who 
married  in  1724  Colonel  Alexander  Deanes,  a  step  which 
led  Pope  to  pass  some  severe  strictures  on  the  fickleness 
of  widows — 

Find  you  the  virtue,  and  I'll  find  the  verse, 
But  random  praise — ^the  task  can  ne'er  be  done  ; 
Each  mother  asks  it  for  her  booby  son, 
Each  widow  asks  it  for  the  best  of  men, 
For  him  she  weeps,  and  him  she  weds  again. 

In  the  year  following  Rowe's  death,  George  I  settled 
upon  this  lady,  who  was  the  dramatist's  second  wife,  a 
pension  of  £40  a  year,  in  consideration  "  of  the  transla- 
tion of  Lucan's  Pharsalia  made  by  her  late  husband." 
She  died  in  1747,  and  was  also  buried  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  Rowe's  first  wife,  who  died  in  1706,  was 
Antonia,  daughter  of  Anthony  Parsons,  one  of  the 
auditors  of  the  Revenue.  In  1717  he  married  his 
second  wife,  Anne,  daughter  of  Joseph  Devenish,  of 
Buckham,  Dorset.     By  his  first  wife  he  had  a  son,  John, 


NICHOLAS   ROWE  129 

and    by    his    gecond    a   daughter,    Charlotte,    who    is 
commemorated  on  the  Abbey  monument. 

All  accounts  agree  that  Rowe  had  a  magnetic  per- 
sonality, and  that  he  made  friends  with  the  same 
alacrity  with  which  his  predecessors  in  the  Laureateship 
made  enemies.  He  seems  to  have  been  a  handsome 
man.  "  Of  a  comely  personage  and  a  very  pretty  sort 
of  man"  is  the  description  of  the  garrulous  Spence.  ^ 
Welwood,  his  biographer,  is  equally  complimentary. 
He  refers  to  Rowe  as  graceful  and  well-made,  with  a 
smooth-rounded  face,  and  of  a  manly  beauty.  More- 
over, his  character  was  pure  and  upright.  At  a  time 
when  the  foulest  slanders  were  circulated  with  impunit}'', 
Rowe's  reputation  remained  untarnished  ;  and  to  have 
earned  a  character  for  clean  and  straight  living  in  an 
age  when  moral  beauty  was  not  appreciated,  was 
certainly  something  to  be  proud  of. 

Rowe  was  a  wit  and  a  man  of  fashion,  who,  says 
John  Dennis,  a  comrade  of  the  pen,  "  loved  to  be  in 
bed  all  day  for  his  ease,  and  to  sit  up  all  night  for  his 
pleasure."  ^  But  behind  the  polished  and  suave  man 
of  the  world,  there  were  solid  qualities.  He  had  a 
genuine  love  of  learning.  He  knew  the  ancient  classics 
intimately,  and  threaded  his  way  lightly  not  only 
through  the  literature  of  his  own  country,  but  through 
that  of  France,  Italy,  and  Spain.  His  talk,  while  not 
brilliant,  was  usually  varied,  sprightly,  and  witty. 
Assuredly  the  man  who  could  attract  natures  so  dis- 
similar as  those  of  Pope,  Addison,  and  Swift,  was  not 
fashioned  in  the  common  mould.  Rowe  was  no  servile 
courtier,  nor  did  he  sell  his  poetical  talents  to  the  highest 
bidder.  His  connection  with  the  stage,  too,  was  on  the 
whole  creditable.     While  it   would  be  an  exaggeration 

^    Anecdotes,   p.   257. 

8  Original  Letteys,   1721,  p.  20. 

9— (3341) 


130  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

to  say  that  his  plays  were  capable  of  no  improvement 
from  the  moral  standpoint,  they  were  certainly  much 
more  wholesome  than  those  of  Dryden,  Wycherley,  and 
Congreve. 

Great  in  his  own  day,  Rowe  is  but  a  shadow  in  ours. 
Those  plays  of  his  which  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  and 
indignation  to  the  breasts  of  generation  after  generation 
of  play-goers  are  now  neither  acted  nor  read.  As  for 
his  poetry,  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  died,  for  it 
never  really  lived.  His  strongest  claim  to  remembrance 
and  gratitude  consists  in  his  having  been  a  pioneer  in 
Shakespearian  study. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LAURENCE   EUSDEN 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  write  of  Laurence  Eusden  with 
patience,  or  with  a  just  sense  of  proportion.  He  was 
despicable  both  as  man  and  poet.  During  his  tenure 
the  fortunes  of  the  Laureateship  reached  their  lowest 
ebb.  Pye,  of  whom  more  anon,  was  fully  his  equal  as 
a  writer  of  pure,  undiluted  doggerel ;  but  he  was  at 
least  a  man  of  character.  Eusden  had  none  ;  he  was 
utterly  contemptible.  A  "  drunken  parson  "  who  wrote 
indecent  verses  may  well  seem  an  astounding  judgment 
to  pass  upon  a  royal  poet  ;  but  that  it  is  not  wide  of 
the  mark  is  fully  borne  out  by  all  that  we  know  of 
Eusden. 

The  epithet,  "  drunken  parson,"  was  used  by  Gray 
who,  probably,  had  Eusden's  ignoble  record  in  mind 
when  he  contemptuously  declined  the  Laureateship  a 
generation  later.  Writing  to  Mason  in  1757,  he  makes 
the  pitiable  confession  that  "  Eusden  was  a  person  of 
great  hopes  in  his  youth,  though  at  last  he  turned  out 
a  drunken  parson."  ^  Pope  also  had  a  thrust  at  his 
bibulous  habits.  In  The  Dunciad  the  reader  is  informed 
that 

Eusden  thirsts  no  more  for  sack  or  praise  ; 

while  another  line  in  the  same  satire  originally  ran — 

How  Laurus  lay  inspir'd   beside  a  sink. 

Eusden  is  also  supposed  to  be  the  "  parson  much 
bemus'd  in  beer "  referred  to  in  Pope's  epistle  to 
Arbuthnot. 

1   Works.  1884,  ii,  345. 

131 


132  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

In  Eusden's  poem,  entitled,  To  the  Author  of  the 
"  Tatler,"  there  is  this  couplet — 

Our  bliss  is  lost,  when  ill  we  once  begin  ; 
There  is  no  Eden  in  the  paths  of  sin. 

Had  the  author  of  the  poem  only  acted  more  in  the 
spirit  of  these  hnes,  the  world  might  still  have  been 
called  upon  to  lament  his  poetical  barrenness  ;  but  it 
could  not  at  any  rate  have  upbraided  him  for  being 
perhaps  the  most  disreputable  of  our  Poets  Laureate. 

Eusden  is  the  only  Laureate  who  finds  no  place  in 
Chambers's  Cyclopaedia  of  English  Literature.  In  that 
fact  is  to  be  found  the  most  damaging  criticism  of  his 
literary  reputation.  Southey,  who  was  capable  now  and 
then  of  saying  amiable  things  about  third-rate  poets, 
apparently  did  not  consider  Eusden  by  any  means  the 
worst  of  the  Laureates.  That  position,  as  we  have  seen, 
he  assigned  to  Shadwell,  Tate  being  set  immediately 
above  him.  We  are,  therefore,  left  to  infer  that  Eusden 
was,  in  Southey's  view,  at  least  two  places  removed  from 
Shadwell.  But  how  the  Lake  poet  could  place  Eusden 
higher  than  Shadwell  and  Tate,  and  yet  accuse  him  of 
writing  "  fulsome  flattery  in  mediocre  poetry,"^  is  not 
easy  to  understand.  Probably  he  was  saved,  in 
Southey's  estimation,  from  the  fate  of  the  irredeemable 
by  his  poetical  translations,  e.g.,  Ovid's  Metamorphoses 
(or  rather  a  portion  of  it),  for  he  refers  to  these  as  being 
marked  by  "  some  command  of  language  and  smooth- 
ness of  versification."  But,  at  the  best,  this  is  tepid 
praise. 

The  truth  is,  Eusden's  poems  are  the  merest  literary 
garbage.  They  are  without  form  and  without  substance 
— dull,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable.  No  one  ever  came 
across   a   quotable   line   in   the   verse  of  this  miserable 

»  Later  Enelish  Poets,  i,  280. 


LAURENCE   EUSDEN  133 

Laureate.  Indeed,  its  distinctive  feature  is  its  coarse- 
ness. Eusden  had  a  tainted  mind.  He  was  as  prurient 
as  Sterne  or  Swift  without  displaying  their  art  ;  as 
nauseous  as  Rabelais,  but  without  his  buoyant  wit  and 
homely  wisdom.  Two  of  his  critics,  writing  more  than 
half  a  century  ago,  deemed  his  Verses  Spoken  at  the 
Public  Commencement  of  Cambridge  quite  unprintable. 
"  Those  prurient  lines,  which  we  dare  not  quote,  but 
which  the  curious  may  see  in  the  library  of  the  British 
Museum,  were  specially  composed  and  repeated  for  the 
edification  and  amusement  of  some  of  the  noblest  and 
fairest  of  our  great -great-grandmothers." 

No  wonder,  then,  that  even  Grub  Street,  as  Mr. 
Birrell  reminds  us,  revolted  against  Eusden's  appoint- 
ment. "  The  putting  the  laurel  on  the  head  of  one  who 
writ  such  verses,"  wrote  John  Oldmixon,  "  will  give 
futurity  a  very  lively  idea  of  the  judgment  and  justice 
of  those  who  bestowed  it."i  Oldmixon  was  right, 
though,  as  a  rival,  he  was  hardly  the  man  to  make  the 
observation.  Posterity,  indeed,  shall  never  cease  to 
wonder  how  it  came  to  pass  that  the  laurel  which  had 
been  worn  by  Jonson  and  Dryden,  and  was  again  to 
become  a  crown  of  glory  on  the  brow  of  Tennyson,  should 
have  been  bestowed  on  a  poetaster  and  a  wastrel,  who 
went  to  a  premature  grave  "  unwept,  unhonoured,  and 
unsung." 

Eusden's  wretched  life-story  is  soon  told.  Like 
Nahum  Tate,  he  came  of  good  Irish  stock,  but,  unlike 
him,  he  was  not  born  in  Ireland.  That  dubious  honour 
belongs  to  Spofforth  in  Yorkshire,  of  which  parish  his 
father,  who  bore  the  same  name,  was  rector.  The 
parish  registers  show  that  he  was  baptized  on 
6th  September,  1688 — the  year  of  the  Revolution. 
After  attending  St.  Peter's  School,  York,  he  proceeded 

*  Art  of  Logic  and  Rhetoric,  p.  413. 


134  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  of  which  Richard  Bentley 
had  recently  become  Master.  Eusden  addressed  some 
verses  to  Bentley  on  the  opening  of  Trinity  College 
Chapel,  but  they  do  not  reveal  any  measure  of  indebted- 
ness to  the  great  scholar  who  was  then  living  the 
glorious  days  of  his  life,  having  just  reared  to  his 
immortal  fame  that  remarkable  monument  of  English 
scholarship,  the  Dissertation  upon  the  Epistles  of  Phalaris. 

Eusden  was  proud  of  being  a  Cambridge  man,  though 
he  gave  his  university  very  little  reason  for  being  proud 
of  him.  But  if  dark  clouds  enveloped  his  later  career, 
it  certainly  began  in  sunshine.  He  was  a  student  of 
whom  great  things  were  expected.  He  became  a  scholar 
of  Trinity  College  in  1706,  the  year  after  his  admission. 
In  1708  he  graduated  B.A.  ;  in  1711  he  was  admitted 
a  minor  Fellow  ;  in  1712  he  was  advanced  to  a  full 
Fellowship,  became  third  sublector,  and  took  his  M.A. 
degree  ;  and  in  1713  he  was  installed  as  second  sub- 
lector.  All  this  points  to  a  man  whose  attainments 
were  above  the  average. 

Would  that  Eusden  had  continued  in  well-doing. 
Though  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  he  could  ever 
have  become  a  poet  worthy  of  the  name,  he  might 
perhaps  have  attained  to  the  dignity  of  a  scholar.  But 
he  chose  the  broad  road,  became  a  loafer,  a  wine-bibber, 
a  profane  person,  and  eventually  was  forced  to  eat  the 
bread  of  sorrow. 

From  an  early  age,  Eusden  devoted  himself  to  the 
Muses.  Considering  his  distinguished  Cambridge  career, 
it  was  fitting  that  his  first  printed  poem  should  take  the 
form  of  a  translation  into  Latin.  One  cannot  but 
regret,  however,  that  he  should  have  chosen  for  this 
honour  a  jejune  poem  by  Lord  Halifax  on  the  battle  of 
the  Boyne.  No  doubt,  his  Irish  blood  was  stirred,  but 
he   ought   to   have   known   that    "  Boyne   water "    was 


LAURENCE  EUSDEN  135 

hardly  the  most  appropriate  theme  to  be  invested  with 
the  sober  dignity  of  the  classical  tongue.  Eusden, 
probably,  had  an  axe  to  grind.  At  all  events,  he  did 
not  content  himself  with  simply  translating  Halifax's 
poem  into  Latin,  but  was  careful  to  draw  that  noble- 
man's attention  to  the  translation  in  another  poetical 
epistle,  which  showed  that  its  author  had  little  to  learn 
regarding  the  art  of  puffing.  Philosophic  statesman 
though  he  was,  Halifax  succumbed  to  the  soft 
blandishments  of  the  youthful  bard,  and  became  his 
patron. 

Eusden,  despite  the  fact  that  he  carried  the  tiniest 
of  portfolios  under  his  arm,  was  now  on  the  high  road 
to  preferment.  Having  apparently  become  convinced 
that  flattery  was  a  handy  and  unfaiUng  passport  to 
success,  he  chose  as  his  next  victim  the  Duke  of  New- 
castle, a  statesman  who  stood  high  in  the  esteem  of 
George  I,  and  who,  as  Lord  Chamberlain,  had  the 
Laureateship  in  his  gift.  Newcastle  cared  nothing  for 
poetry,  but  he  would  tolerate  it,  if  it  were  used  as  a 
medium  for  his  aggrandizement.  Eusden,  on  the  other 
hand,  well  knew  that 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune. 

The  critical  period  for  him  arrived  in  1717.  In  that 
year  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  married  Lady  Henrietta 
Godolphin,  and  the  happy  thought  occurred  to  the 
rising  poet  of  celebrating  the  auspicious  event,  and  thus 
gaining,  perchance,  another  powerful  patron.  This  self- 
imposed  task  Eusden  executed  so  thoroughly,  that  when 
the  Laureateship  became  vacant  in  the  following  year 
by  the  death  of  Rowe,  Newcastle,  in  return  for  the 
glowing  epithalamium,  presented  him  with  the  laurel. 
Unblushing  flattery  had  won  an  easy  victory. 


136  THE  POETS   LAUREATE 

Eusden's  appointment  was  hailed  with  universal  dis- 
gust. Contemporary  bards,  without  exception,  were 
furious  at  the  spectacle  of  so  much  honour  being  done 
to  a  poetical  fledgehng ;  and  they  wreaked  their 
vengeance  on  Newcastle  and  the  obsequious  Eusden. 
Lampoon  followed  lampoon,  each  one  more  scurrilous 
than  its  predecessor.  In  1725  Thomas  Cooke,  a  bard 
quite  as  unimportant  as  the  Laureate  himself,  published 
a  satire,  entitled,  The  Battle  of  the  Poets,  in  which  scathing 
reference  is  made  to  Eusden. 

While  in  their  camp  retir'd  both  armies  lay, 
Some  panting,  others  fearful  for  the  day, 
Eusden,  a  laurell'd  Bard,  by  fortune  rais'd. 
By  very  few  been  read,  by  fewer  praised, 
From  place  to  place,  forlorn  and  breathless,  flies 
And  offers  bribes  immense  for  strong  allies. 
In  vain  he  spent  the  day,  the  night  in  vain, 
For  all,  the  Laureate,  and  his  bribes,  disdain. 
With  heart  dejected  he  returned  alone 
Upon  the  banks  of  Cam,  to  make  his  moan 
Resolv'd  to  spend  his  future  days  in  ease, 
And  only  toil  in  verse  himself  to  please. 
To  fly  the  noisy  candidates  of  Fame, 
Nor  ever  court  again  so  coy  a  Dame. 

Equally  caustic  was  John  SheflQeld,  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham (1648-1721),  who,  although  born  when  Charles  I 
was  on  the  throne,  was  still  earning  renown  as  a  wit 
and  a  poet  in  the  reign  of  the  first  George.  Bucking- 
ham's poem  was  based  on  Suckling's  Session  of  the  Poets, 
and  was  entitled,  The  Electiofi  of  a  Poet  Laureate.  It 
depicts  with  a  rollicking  humour  the  assembling  of  the 
poets,  all  of  whom  have  come 

With  full  confidence,  flushed  with  vain  hope 
From  Gibber  to  D'Urfey,  to  Prior  and  Pope. 

Eager  expectancy  lights  up  the  faces  of  "  stem  Dennis 
and  Gildon  "  ;  of  Steele,  who  "  could  not  be  blamed  for 
expecting  the  crown  "  ;  of  "  lame  Congreve,"  who  begged 


LAURENCE   EUSDEN  137 

of  Apollo  "  either  a  crown  or  a  cure  "  ;  of  Buckingham, 
whose  chances,  however,  were  remote  since  "  a  Laureate 
peer  had  never  been  kno\\Ti."  Apollo,  bewildered  by 
the  clamour  of  the  rival  candidates,  was  at  his  wit's 
end  whom  to  appoint  to  the  Laureateship,  when 

At  last  rush'd  in  Eusden,  and  cried,  '  Who  shall  have  it, 
But  I  the  true  laureat,  to  whom  the  King  gave  it  ?  ' 
Apollo  begg'd  pardon,  and  granted  his  claim. 
But  vow'd,  that  till  then,  he  had  ne'er  heard  his  name. 

Pope,  as  has  already  been  indicated,  also  directed  the 
raking  fire  of  his  sarcasm  against  Eusden.  In  Book  I 
of  The  Dunciad,  where  he  represents  Dullness  surveying 
the  achievements  of  her  sons,  occurs  this  couplet — 

She  saw  old  Prynne  in  restless  Daniel  shine, 
And  Eusden  eke  out  Blackmore's  endless  line. 

Only  one  voice  was  raised  in  praise  of  Newcastle's  choice, 
and  it  spoke  in  prose.  In  Gibber's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  we 
read  that  Eusden  was  "  no  inconsiderable  versifier  .  .  . 
though,  perhaps,  he  had  not  the  brightest  parts  "  ; 
that  no  moral  blemish  was  imputed  to  him  ;  and  that 
"as  he  was  dignified  with  holy  orders,  his  Grace  acted 
a  very  generous  part  in  providing  for  a  man  who  had 
conferred  an  obligation  on  him."  ^  The  naivete  of  this 
statement  is  amusing.  If  the  writer  of  these  lines 
thought  Eusden  a  passable  poet  and  a  moral  man,  no 
one  else  did.  Furthermore,  his  Grace's  act  is  somewhat 
shorn  of  its  glory  when  it  is  remembered  that  Eusden 
did  not  become  a  clergyman  for  several  years  after 
receiving  the  Laureateship. 

Now  the  unvarnished  truth  is  that  Eusden  became 
Poet  Laureate  on  the  strength  of  the  slenderest  of  reputa- 
tions. He  had  celebrated  Marlborough's  victory  at 
Oudenarde,  in  1708,  in  a  paean,  in  which  he  poses  as  a 
herald  both  of  revolt  and  peace. 

1  Vol.  iv,  193. 


138  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Oft  be  it  thine  to  conqvier,  ours  to  praise  ! 
Soon  then  the  hideous  din  of  war  shall  cease. 
And  the  long-wearied  Albion  rest  in  peace. 

Thee  Anna  chose  ;    in  thee  let  all  rejoice, 
Since  by  new  wonders  Heaven  confirms  the 
glorious  choice. 

He  had  also  written  a  Letter  to  Addison  on  the  Kings 
Accession,  1714  ;  contributed  to  a  volume  of  original 
poems  ;  translated  from  Claudian  and  Statius  ;  penned 
the  unsavoury  Cambridge  poem,  to  which  reference  has 
been  made  ;  and  indited  the  nuptial  poem  of  the  Duke 
of  Newcastle,  which  brought  him  the  poetical  crown. 
This,  and  a  few  minor  poems,  was  all  that  stood  to 
Eusden's  credit  when  his  brow  was  decked  with  the 
laurel. 

It  might  have  been  possible  to  look  with  a  benignant 
eye  on  these  poetical  trifles,  had  Eusden  redeemed  him- 
self while  Laureate.  But  responsibility,  experience,  and 
the  passing  of  the  years  brought  no  maturity.  He  left 
no  masterpiece,  no  poem  which  stands  out  from  the 
doggerel  mass  with  a  certain  distinction  of  thought  and 
expression.  He  was  destitute  of  ideas  and,  even  if  he 
had  possessed  them,  he  had  no  medium  wherewith  to 
express  them.  Flattery  was  the  only  thing  he  under- 
stood, and,  fortunately  for  him,  it  was  then  of  high 
market  value. 

Eusden  signalised  his  entry  upon  the  Laureateship 
by  addressing  a  poem  to  the  Princess  of  Wales  on  the 
occasion  of  the  birth  of  a  prince,  and  by  doing  poetical 
obeisance  to  the  friends  who  had  promoted  his  advance- 
ment. Then  he  wrote  the  first  of  a  series  of  dismal 
New  Year  and  Birthday  odes.  Several  of  the  latter 
are  positively  blasphemous,  and  had  the  first  two 
Georges  been  men  of  spirit  or  even  been  endowed  with 
a  sense  of  humour,  they  would  have  risen  up  in  wrath 


LAURENCE   EUSDEN  139 

against  their  audacious  poet.  George  I,  however,  knew 
Httle  EngHsh,  and  George  II  was  preoccupied  with  his 
mistresses.  It  was  unfortunate,  for  Eusden  assuredly 
wrote  some  terrible  things.  The  two  monarchs  whom 
he  served  were  men  of  flawless  rectitude,  and  above  all 
human  standards  of  comparison.  A  typical  specimen 
of  the  gushing  productions  which  the  Laureate  issued 
with  embarrassing  promptitude  is  the  ode  "  on  the  happy 
succession  and  coronation  "  of  George  II.  It  is  too  long 
for  quotation  in  full,  but  here  is  one  of  the  purple 
passages — 

Hail,  mighty  monarch  !  whose  desert  alone 
Would,  without  birth-right,  raise  thee  to  a  throne. 

Thy  virtues  shine  peculiarly  nice, 

Un-gloom'd  with  a  confinity  to  vice. 
What  strains  shall  equal  to  thy  glories  rise, 
^    First  of  the  world,  and  borderer  on  the  skies  ? 
^-  How  exquisitely  great,  who  can'st  inspire 

Such  joys,  that  Albion  mourns  no  more  thy  sire  ; 
Thy  Sire  !    a  Prince,  she  loved  to  that  degree 
She  almost  tvespass'd  on  the  Deity. 

Avant  !    degenerate  grafts,  or  spurious  breed, 
'Tis  a  George  only  can  a  George  succeed  ! 

Another  effusion,  in  which  the  second  George  is  com- 
pared with  "  the  softly  murmuring  spring,"  winds 
up  thus — 

Genius  !    now  securely  rest, 

We  shall  ever  now  be  blest. 
Thou  thy  guardianship  may  spare 
Britannia  is  a  Brunswick's  care  ! 

Such  high-sounding  nonsense  brought,  of  course,  a 
harvest  of  ridicule.  The  disgusting  and  profane 
adulation  of  Eusden's  odes  encouraged  Pope  to  write — 

Praise  undeserved,  is  scandal  in  disguise. 
Well  may  he  blush,  who  gives  it,  or  receives  ; 
And  when  I  flatter  let  my  dirty  leaves 


140  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

(Like  journals,  odes,  and  such  forgotten  things 
As  Eusden,  Philips,  Settle,  writ  of  Kings), 
Clothe  spice,  line  trunks,  or  fluttering  in  a  row, 
Befringe  the  rails  of  Bedlam  and  Soho. 

Though  impervious  to  ridicule  or  anything  else,  Eusden 

nevertheless  was  constantly  being  assailed  with  squibs, 

which,   at   any  rate,  gave  relief  to  those  who  penned 

them.     And    certainly    the    uncrowned    bards    did    not 

touch  the  Laureate's  deficiencies  with  a  light  hand.     In 

the  Grub  Street  Journal  of  27th  August,   1730,  he  was 

thus  pilloried  in   a  poem  hitting  off  Dryden's  famous 

epigram  on  Milton — 

Three  Poets  (grave  divines)  in  England  born, 
The  Prince's  entry  did  wdth  verse  adorn, 
The  first  in  lowliness  of  thought  surpass'd  ; 
The  next  in  bombast ;  and  in  both  the  last. 
Dullness  no  more  could  for  her  Laureate  do. 
To  perfect  him,  she  joined  the  former  two. 

Oldmixon  also  poured  contempt  on  the  official  odes,  but 

through  the  medium  of  prose.     "  Of  all  the  galimatias 

I  ever  met  with,  none  comes  up  to  some  verses  of  this 

poet,   which  have   as  much  of  the  ridiculum   and  the 

fustian  in  them  as  can  well  be  jumbled  together  ;    and 

are  of  that  sort  of  nonsense,  which  so  perfectly  confounds 

all  ideas,  that  there  is  no  distinct  one  left  in  the  mind."  ^ 

It  is  the  voice  of  an  enemy,  but  nevertheless  profoundly 

true. 

Even  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  who  is  credited  with  having 

banished    literature    from    public    life,    could    inspire 

Eusden's    muse.     When    the    Order    of    the    Bath    was 

restored  by  George   I,   Walpole  took   the  Red   Ribbon 

himself  in  order  to  make  the  honour  acceptable  to  those 

upon   whom   it   was   bestowed   instead   of   the   Garter. 

This  incident  the  royal  poet  celebrated  thus — 

Her  Sons  diminished,  Chivalry  deplored, 

Till   the   great   Brunswick   Bath's   famed    I^ights   restored. 

^    Art  of  Logic  and  Rhetoric,  p.  413. 


LAURENCE   EUSDEN  141 

While  the  big,  solemn  pomp  slow  moved  along, 

We  view'd  thee,  shining  'mid  the  glorious  throng. 

Graced  with  a  Royal  Mark  of  crimson  hue, 

That  crimson  but  a  prelude  to  the  blue. 

So  first  Aurora  with  a  reddening  ray. 

Streaks  deep  th'  ethereal  plains,  and  wakes  the  day  ; 

But  when  the  disk  of  Phoebus  high  is  borne. 

Hid  are  the  blushes  of  the  rosie  morn. 

A  two-fold  beauty  soothes  th'  attracted  eye. 

Here  radiant  lustre,  there,  an  azure  sky. 

But  Eusden  did  not  always  think  highly  of  Walpole. 
"  Have  you  heard,"  inquires  James  Thomson  of  David 
Mallet,  "  that  our  present  Blockhead  Laureate  or  Laureate 
Blockhead  (Eusden)  has  had  a  fling  at  Walpole  .^  "  ^ 

Occasionally,  Eusden  tried  to  be  facetious.  In  an 
epigram  on  a  lady,  we  see  the  result. 

Long  had  I  known  the  soft,  enchanting  wiles. 
Which  Cupid  practised  in  Aurelia's  smiles. 
'Till  by  degrees,  like  the  fam'd  Asian  taught, 
Safely  I  drank  the  sweet,  tho'  pois'nous  draught. 
Love  vex'd  to  see  his  favours  vainly  shown. 
The  peevish  Urchin  muttered  with  a  frown. 

Apart  from  his  career  as  Poet  Laureate,  little  is  known 
of  Eusden.  Between  1722  and  1725  he  took  orders  in 
the  Church  of  England,  and  for  some  time  acted  as 
chaplain  to  Richard,  Lord  Willoughby  de  Broke.  Sub- 
sequently, he  became  rector  of  Coningsby,  in  Lincoln- 
shire. His  last  years  were  spent  chiefly  in  translating, 
and  writing  the  life  of,  Tasso  ;  also  in  drinking.  He 
died  at  Coningsby,  in  1730,  in  the  forty-second  year  of 
his  age,  and  the  twelfth  of  his  Laureateship. 

Dissipated,  and  without  a  spark  of  the  divine  afflatus, 
Eusden's  position  among  the  men  of  letters  of  his  day 
was  anything  but  enviable.  He  was  regarded  as  a  man 
who  had  dragged  the  laurel  through  the  mire  ;  and  the 
penalty  for  such  conduct  in  the  eighteenth  century  was 
not  the  silence  of  contempt,  but  the  lash  of  the  most 

^  Memoir  pref .  to  Aldine  ed.  of  Thomson's  Works,  p.  xxxi  note. 


142  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

scathing  satire.  Considering  how  little  he  wrote,  probably 
no  English  poet,  certainly  no  Laureate,  ever  called  forth 
such  a  torrent  of  ridicule  and  denunciation.  In  the 
days  of  his  respectability,  however,  he  seems  to  have 
been  on  intimate  terms  with  Addison  and  Steele,  and 
to  have  occasionally  contributed  to  The  Spectator,  and  to 
its  successor,  The  Guardian. 

Steele  mentions  him  as  assisting  in  the  management 
of  The  Spectator,  in  which  he  is  supposed  to  have  written 
an  essay  on  idols,  with  "  some  amusing  illustrations  of 
customs."  A  letter  bearing  the  title,  "  More  Roarings 
of  the  Lion,"  which  appeared  in  No.  124  of  The 
Guardian,  is  also  attributed  to  him  ;  while  the  poetical 
translations  from  Claudian,  in  Nos.  127  and  164,  are 
admittedly  his.  Eusden  was  also  permitted  to  prefix 
commendatory  verses  to  Addison's  Cato. 

As  was  indicated  at  the  outset,  it  is  difficult  to  write 
of  Eusden  save  in  a  strain  of  severe  castigation.  There 
are  lights  and  shadows  in  most  portraits,  but  his  had 
none,  or,  if  they  existed,  they  were  not  discernible  to 
the  men  of  his  own  time.  It  was  not  merely  that  he 
was  a  ridiculous  person  to  occupy  the  position  of  Poet 
Laureate.  Much  might  have  been  forgiven  him  on  that 
score  had  his  character  been  robust.  But  no  such  claim 
can  be  made  out  for  it.  Worthless  as  a  poet,  he  was 
still  more  worthless  as  a  man.  There  is  none  to  do  him 
honour.  For  all  time,  Eusden  will  be  remembered  as 
the  "  drunken  parson  "  who  stumbled  upon  the  Laureate- 
ship — as  the  shining  example  of  how  little  poetical  merit 
was  necessary  to  obtain  England's  crown  of  laurel  in 
days  when  he  that  was  most  obsequious  reaped  the 
greatest  reward. 


CHAPTER   IX 

COLLEY   CIBBER 

Hardly  had  the  tidings  of  Eusden's  death  been  circu- 
lated, when  there  sprang  up  with  the  suddenness,  and 
some  of  the  violence,  of  a  whirlwind,  a  host  of  bards 
eager  to  wear  the  chaplet  which  had  been  so  besmirched. 
One  would  have  thought  that  the  Laureateship,  left  as 
Eusden  left  it,  would  have  been  shunned ;  but  the 
hungry  and  penniless  poets  who  now  came  forward  were 
not  disposed  to  scrutinise  too  closely  the  respectability 
of  an  office  to  which  sack  and  pension  were  attached. 

And  what  a  motley  group  they  were!  There  was 
Richard  Savage,  Johnson's  friend  in  the  days  of  adver- 
sity ;  Lewis  Theobald,  playwright,  Shakespearian  critic, 
and  the  original  hero  of  The  Dunciad  ;  John  Dennis,  the 
protagonist  of  Pope,  and  an  adept  at  abusing  the  Tories  ; 
and  Stephen  Duck,  the  farm  servant,  who  rose  to  be 
the  Laureate  of  Queen  Caroline.  Pope  is  even  said  to 
have  placed  himself  alongside  these  starvelings,  and 
would  fain  have  become  Eusden's  successor.  Happily, 
his  religion  and  his  politics  prevented  this  calamity. 

The  women  having  spurred  him  "  to  put  in  for  the 
withered  laurel,"  Theobald  took  to  canvassing.  From 
a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  Warburton  a  few  months 
after  Eusden's  death,  it  is  evident  that  he  spared  no 
pains  to  obtain  the  Laureateship.  "  I,  with  Lord 
Gage,  attended  Sir  Robert  Walpole  ;  was  commanded 
by  him  to  attend  at  Windsor  ;  had  his  warmest  recom- 
mendations to  the  Lord  Chamberlain  (Charles,  Duke  of 
Grafton)  ;  nay,  procured  those  recommendations  to  be 
seconded  even  by  His  Royal  Highness  ;    and  yet,  after 

143 


144  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

standing  fair  for  the  post   at  least   three  weeks,"   he 
experienced  the  mortification  of  defeat. 

Savage  was  even  more  pertinacious,  and  though  he, 
too,  failed,  his  labours  were  not  altogether  in  vain. 
Johnson,  in  his  much-praised  essay  on  Savage,  ^  says 
that  his  friend  "  exerted  all  the  interest  which  his  wit, 
or  his  birth  (Savage  claimed  to  be  the  illegitimate  son 
of  the  Countess  of  Macclesfield),  or  his  misfortunes 
could  procure,  to  obtain,  upon  the  death  of  Eusden,  the 
place  of  Poet  Laureate,  and  prosecuted  his  apphcation 
with  so  much  diligence,  that  the  King  publicly  declared 
it  his  intention  to  bestow  it  upon  him." 

But  Savage  was  baulked  of  his  desire  by  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  who,  as  the  official  immediately  responsible, 
had  made  a  different  choice,  possibly  without  knowing 
the  King's  intentions.  Nothing  daunted.  Savage 
besought  the  good  offices  of  the  Queen,  and  was  suc- 
cessful through  the  instrumentality  of  Tyrconnel,  who 
strongly  recommended  the  indigent  poet  in  a  letter  to 
Her  Majesty's  favourite — Mrs.  Clayton.  ^  Some  adula- 
tory verses  which  Savage  had  written  on  the  Queen's 
birthday,  coming  under  the  royal  notice,  the  author 
received  ;^50,  and  a  gracious  message  informing  him  that 
he  had  permission  to  write  a  birthday  ode  annually,  for 
which  he  should  receive  on  each  occasion  a  gift  of  ;(50 
"  till  something  better  could  be  done  for  him." 

Having  thus  ingratiated  himself  with  the  Queen, 
Savage  was  determined  that,  though  Eusden's  post  had 
been  denied  him,  he  would  not  be  robbed  of  the  honour, 
and  particularly  of  the  reward,  of  being  a  royal  poet. 
Accordingly,  he  assumed  the  title  of  "  Volunteer 
Laureate  "  ;  and  as  each  birthday  of  the  Queen  came 
round,  he  attended  at  Court,  presented  his  congratulatory 

1  Lives  of  the  Poets. 

*  Memoirs  of    Viscoujiless  Sundon,  ii,  241. 


COLLEY    CIBBER 

As  Lord  Foppington  in  Vanbrugh's  play,  The  Relapse 

From   the  painting  by  Grisoni  in  the  possession   of  the 
Garrick  Club 


COLLEY   GIBBER  145 

poem,  and  had  the  honour  of  kissing  the  Queen's 
hand.  Here  is  how  Savage  wrote  of  his  royal  patroness 
in  the  flush  of  newly-born  gratitude — 

Great  Princess  ! — 'tis  decreed — once  every  year 

I  march  uncall'd,  your  Laureat  Volunteer  ; 

Then  shall  your  Poet  his  low  genius  raise 

And  charm  the  world  with  truths  too  vast  for  praise. 

Nor  need  I  dwell  on  Glories  all  your  own 

Since  surer  means  to  tempt  your  smiles  are  known, 

Your  poet  shall  allot  your  Lord  his  part, 

And  paint  him  in  his  noblest  throne,  your  Heart. 

But,  in  later  odes,  discontent  is  judiciously  mingled  with 
gratitude,  for  it  became  Savage's  embarrassing  task,  as 
Johnson  says,  "  to  praise  the  Queen  for  the  favours 
which  he  had  received,  and  to  complain  to  her  of  the 
delay  of  those  which  she  had  promised."  With 
Caroline's  death  in  1737,  the  royal  bounty  came  to  an 
end,  and  poor  Savage  had  to  resort  to  other  modes  of 
mendicancy. 

The  Laureateship,  however,  was  reserved  not  for 
habitues  of  Grub  Street  like  Theobald  and  Savage,  but 
for  a  man,  who,  although  he  was  as  far  from  being  an 
inspired  son  of  the  Muses  as  they  were,  had  done  good 
work  for  the  triumphant  Whigs,  and  had  become  famous 
by  reason  of  the  unerring  skill  with  which  he  gauged 
the  popular  taste  in  the  matter  of  the  drama — the 
consequential  Colley  Gibber,  whose  "  impenetrable 
impudence  "  was  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Johnson. 

Gibber  was  much  maligned  in  his  day  because  of  his 
Laureate  odes — and,  frankly,  they  could  hardly  have 
been  worse — but  probably  he  was  more  sinned  against 
than  sinning.  If  he  did  not  do  well,  it  was  simply 
because,  in  accordance  with  Hanoverian  practice,  the 
Laureateship  had  degenerated  into  a  mere  perquisite  of 
a  political  party.  Gibber  had  sought  fame  and  had 
found    it,     not    in    poetry,    but    in    the   theatre.    A 

10— (a34i) 


146  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

dramatist  who  crowded  the  playhouse  for  two  genera- 
tions, a  comic  actor  of  renown,  an  unrivalled  critic  of 
stage  plays,  and  a  highly  successful  theatrical  manager, 
the  drama,  and  not  the  writing  of  Laureate  odes,  was 
clearly  his  vocation.  Horace  Walpole  neatly  summed  up 
the  situation  when  he  remarked  that  "  Cibber  wrote  as 
bad  odes  (as  Garrick),  but  then  Cibber  wrote  The  Care- 
less Husband  and  his  own  Life,  which  both  deserve 
immortality."  ^  It  is  the  voice  of  the  dramatist  which 
speaks  in  Cibber,  not  the  voice  of  the  poet.  Any  sketch 
of  his  life,  therefore,  must  be  largely  a  record  of  his 
triumphs  on  the  stage,  which  he  knew  better  than  any 
man  of  his  time. 

Fortunately,  materials  for  the  biographical  construc- 
tion of  his  life  are  not  scanty,  for  in  the  Apology  for  the 
Life  of  Mr.  Colley  Cibber,  Comedian  (1740),  we  have  not 
only  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  straightforward 
autobiographies  in  the  language,  but  a  singularly  vivid 
picture  of  the  English  theatre  of  that  day.  We  are,  how- 
ever, most  grateful  for  the  inimitable  portrait  of  the 
man  himself. 

Cibber  had  a  forceful  and  many-sided  personalit3^ 
but  was  without  a  touch  of  intellectual  or  moral  great- 
ness. He  was  intensely  human,  and  his  failings  made 
him  an  easy  mark  for  the  satire  of  not  a  few  formidable 
enemies.  The  squibs  elicited  by  his  idiosyncracies 
almost  make  a  literature  in  themselves.  The  most 
opprobrious  epithets  were  showered  upon  him.  One  of 
his  rivals  heralded  his  elevation  to  the  Laureateship  thus — 

In  merry  Old  England  it  once  was  a  rule 

The  King  had  his  poet  and  also  his  fool  ; 

But  now  we're  so  frugal,  I'd  have  you  to  know  it, 

That  Cibber  can  serve  both  for  fool  and  for  poet. 

Though  engaged  in  controversy  for  the  greater  part  of 

»   Letters,  v,   197. 


COLLEY   GIBBER  147 

his  long  life,  and  often  most  unjustly  treated,  Gibber 
always  fought  with  clean  weapons,  and  bore  no  malice. 
His  forbearance  and  good  nature  were,  indeed,  wonderful. 
Pope  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  traducing  him,  Johnson 
called  him  a  blockhead.  Fielding  taunted  him  with 
writing  execrable  English,   and  Swift   satirised  him   in 

the  lines — 

For  instance  :  when  you  rashly  think, 
No  rhymer  can  Uke  Welsted  sink, 
His  merits  balanc'd,  you  shall  find, 
The  Laureate  leaves  him  far  behind. 

But  Gibber  never  grew  querulous  or  acrimonious.  He 
was  slow  to  wrath,  for  he  went  on  the  principle  that  as 
no  criticism  could  possibly  make  him  worse  than  he 
really  was,  so  nothing  he  could  say  of  himself  could 
possibly  make  him  better.  If  there  was  much  rodo- 
montade in  this  Laureate,  there  was  also  much  good 
sense,  and  not  a  little  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness. 
Furthermore,  Gibber  was  entirely  free  from  the  besetting 
sin  of  his  predecessors — dulness.  Only  a  deliberate 
attempt  to  misunderstand  his  character,  could  have 
induced  Pope  to  charge  him  with  being  a  dullard. 
Gibber  was  essentially  a  bright,  genial,  quick-witted 
man  ;  otherwise  he  could  hardly  have  been  the  brilliant 
comedian  he  was.  Armstrong,  his  intimate  friend,  wrote 
of  him  as  being  "  to  the  last,  one  of  the  most  agreeable, 
cheerful,  and  best-humoured  men  you  would  ever  wish 
to  converse  with."  From  all  that  we  know  of  Gibber, 
this  is  no  more  than  the  truth. 

Dramatist,  actor,  theatrical  manager,  critic.  Poet 
Laureate,  Colley  Gibber  was  born  in  London  in  1671. 
His  father,  who  hailed  from  Flensborg,  came  to  England 
before  the  Restoration,  and  settled  as  a  sculptor.  One 
piece  of  work  which  he  executed  was  the  carving  of  two 
figures  symbolical  of  Raving  and  Melancholy  over  the 
gates  of  Bethlehem  Hospital,   London,  a  circumstance 


148  THE  POETS   LAUREATE 

which    Pope    did    not    forget    when    immortaUsing    the 
sculptor's  son  in  The  Dunciad. 

Close  to  those  walls  where  Folly  holds  her  throne, 
And  laughs  to  think  Monroe  would  take  her  down, 
Where,  o'er  the  gates,  by  his  famed  father's  hand ' 
Great  Gibber's  brazen,  brainless  brothers  stand. 

Caius  Gabriel  Cibber,  or  Cibert,  was  twice  married, 
Colley  being  the  child  of  the  second  union.  Through 
his  mother,  a  daughter  of  William  Colley,  of  Glaston, 
Rutlandshire,  who  suffered  grievous  misfortune  in  the 
Civil  War,  he  was  descended  from  William  of  Wykeham. 
It  was,  therefore,  peculiarly  fitting  that,  after  spending 
five  years  at  a  preparatory  school  in  Grantham,  he 
should  propose  to  enter  Winchester  School,  which  owed 
its  origin  to  his  illustrious  ancestor.  But,  for  some 
inexplicable  reason,  his  application  for  admission  was 
rejected,  and  Colley  found  that  his  all  too  brief  schooling 
was  over.  After  a  short  stay  in  London,  where  he  con- 
ceived a  liking  for  the  stage,  he  joined  his  father  in 
Nottingham,  and  served  with  him  as  a  soldier  in  the 
difficult  and  troublous  times  that  followed  the  Revolution. 

But  being  more  enamoured  of  the  Thespian  art  than 
of  the  profession  of  arms,  he,  in  1690,  joined  the  united 
companies  at  the  Theatre  Royal  in  Drury  Lane,  which 
was  the  scene  of  his  labours  during  nearly  the  whole  of 
his  dramatic  career  of  forty-three  years.  The  first 
glimpse  we  get  of  Cibber  reveals  a  harum-scarum  young 
fellow  dancing  attendance  on  the  prompter,  in  the  hope 
of  obtaining  employment.  Being  sent  one  day  with  a 
message  to  Betterton,  he  somehow  disturbed  the  action 
of  a  play  in  which  the  great  actor  was  appearing. 
Betterton  demanded  that  Cibber's  salary  should  be 
reduced  ;  but  being  informed  that  "  Master  Colley  " 
had  none,  he  replied  :  "  Then  put  him  down  ten  shillings 
a  week  and  forfeit  him  five." 


COLLEY   GIBBER  149 

Such  are  reported  to  have  been  the  circumstances 
which  led  to  his  first  engagement.  ^  He  began  unprom- 
isingly,  being  hampered  by  a  weak  voice ;  but  his 
industry,  enthusiasm,  and  unfailing  good  humour  soon 
made  him  a  favourite.  In  1692  he  scored  his  first  suc- 
cess as  the  Chaplain  in  Otway's  The  Orphan.  This  he 
followed  up  by  a  performance  of  Lord  Touchwood  in  the 
Double  Dealer,  which  evoked  the  praise  of  Congreve,  and 
increased  his  salary  to  the  princely  sum  oi  £1  per  week. 
The  part,  however,  which  brought  him  to  the  front  as  a 
comedian  was  that  of  Lord  Foppington  in  Vanbrugh's 
The  Relapse  (1697).  In  subsequent  years,  Cibber  played 
many  parts,  but  he  never  excelled  his  impersonation  of 
this  character.  Grisoni  painted  his  portrait  in  it,  and 
all  admitted  that  the  artist  had  "  drawn  the  Laureat 
in  his  noblest  part." 

The  first  necessity  of  Gibber's  existence  was  to  obtain 
a  decent  livelihood  ;  the  next,  that  his  insatiable  desire 
for  the  applause  of  Thespis  should  be  appeased.  How 
to  coalesce  these  was  the  problem,  and  he  solved  it  not 
only  by  successful  acting,  but  by  successful  plajrwriting. 
In  1696  the  long  list  of  comedies,  tragedies,  and  "  musical 
entertainments  and  farces  "  with  which  Gibber  graced 
the  English  stage  for  fifty  years,  opened  with  Love's  Last 
Shift,  or  the  Fool  in  Fashion,  which  was  literally  trans- 
lated by  a  French  author.  La  dernier e  Chemise  de  V Amour. 
Gertainly  Gibber  had  no  reason  to  be  disappointed  either 
with  the  reception  of  the  comedy  or  with  his  acting  of 
the  part  of  Sir  Novelty  Fashion.  Lord  Dorset  said  it 
was  "  the  best  first  play  that  any  author  in  his  memory 
had  produced,  and  that  for  a  young  fellow  to  show  him- 
self such  an  actor,  and  such  a  writer  in  one  day,  was 
something  extraordinary."  And  the  public  were  in 
substantial  agreement  with  Lord  Dorset. 

^  Davies's  Dramatic  Miscellanies,  iii,  417-18. 


150  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Though  the  stamp  of  popular  approval  bore  equally 
on  Gibber's  work  as  a  dramatist  and  as  an  actor,  it  must 
be  said  that  the  balance  of  originality  was  in  favour  of 
the  latter.  In  point  of  humour  and  vivacity,  his 
comedies  are  comparable  with  the  best  successes  of 
Congreve,  and  are  superior  to  his  in  refinement.  Gray 
declared  them  excellent,  ^  while  Smollett,  somewhat  reck- 
lessly, classed  The  Careless  Husband  with  that  of  The 
Suspicious  Husband  as  "  the  only  comedies  of  this  age 
that  bid  fair  for  reaching  posterity." 

Originality,  however,  was  not  one  of  Gibber's  strong 
points.  Not  a  few  of  his  plays  are  mere  adaptations 
from  Shakespeare,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  and  Dryden. 
He  also  purloined  from  French  sources.  And  in 
remodelling  these  plays  to  make  them  palatable  for  his 
patrons,  he  took  unbounded  liberties.  If  a  play  hap- 
pened to  be  too  short,  he  simply  eked  it  out  by  adding 
on  a  piece  from  another.  Of  one  of  Shakespeare's  plays, 
Gibber  said  :  "I  have  endeavoured  to  make  it  more  like 
a  play  than  I  found  it  in  Shakespeare."  An  apt  com- 
mentary on  this  observation  came  from  Fielding,  who 
said  that  no  man  was  better  calculated  than  Gibber  to 
alter  Shakespeare  for  the  worse. 

To  fill  the  pit  and  boxes,  he  remorselessly  mutilated 
Richard  III  and  King  Lear.  This  "  modernisation  " 
of  Shakespeare  brought  "  crowded  houses,"  increased  the 
salaries  of  the  actors,  and  gave  Gibber  a  new  lease  of 
popularity.  His  version  of  Richard  III  with  the 
famous  line — 

Off  with  his  head  !    so  much  for  Buckingham  ! 

was  first  produced  in  1700,  and  it  kept  the  stage  until 
1821,  a  testimony  to  its  popularity,  but  a  lamentable 
commentary  on  the  decadence  of  dramatic  taste. 
By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  age  of  thirty,  Gibber 

'  Miiford's  Gray,  v,  35. 


COLLEY   CIBBER  151 

had  amassed  sufficient  wealth  to  enable  him  to  join 
Wilks  and  Doggett,  his  fellow-actors,  in  the  management 
of  Drury  Lane,  an  event  which  was  followed  by  a  period 
of  great  prosperity.  In  1715,  through  the  influence  of 
Sir  Richard  Steele,  who,  along  with  Booth,  had,  in  the 
interval,  joined  the  management  of  Drury  Lane,  the 
licence  of  the  theatre  was  exchanged  for  a  patent.  Soon 
after,  however,  Doggett  quarrelled  with  his  fellow- 
managers,  retired  from  the  directorship,  and,  because 
Gibber,  Wilks,  and  Booth  refused  to  give  him  what  he 
considered  his  equitable  share,  instituted  legal  pro- 
ceedings. ^  Matters  became  further  complicated  by 
Gibber  and  his  associates  being  prosecuted  by  the  Master 
of  the  Revels  for  refusing  to  submit  plays  for  his 
approval.  Then  there  were  quarrels  and  counter- 
quarrels  leading  to  more  litigation.  Eventually  the 
theatre  was  temporarily  closed  by  order  of  the  Lord 
Ghamberlain. 

But  while  those  squabbles  were  attributable  to  various 
causes,  they  were  indirectly  at  all  events  traceable  to 
one  source,  i.e.,  Gibber's  comedy,  The  N on- Juror,  the 
prologue  of  which  had  been  written  by  Rowe.  A  rabid 
Hanoverian,  Gibber  wished  to  throw  discredit  and  ridicule 
on  the  High  Ghurch  Tories  or  Jacobites,  who  avoided 
taking  the  oaths  of  allegiance  to  George  I,  and  were 
styled  Non-Jurors.  Hence  the  name  of  the  comedy, 
which  was  little  more  than  a  translation  of  Moli^re's 
Tartuffe,  as  we  are  reminded  b}''  some  lines  in  the 
epilogue  to  Sewell's  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  (1719) — 

Yet  to  write  plays  is  easy,  faith,  enough. 
As  you  have  seen  by — Gibber — in   Tartuffe. 
With  how  much  wit  he  did  your  hearts  engage  ! 
He  only  stole  the  play  ; — he  writ  the  title-page. 

The  principal  character,  which  Gibber  plaj'^ed  himself, 

^   Gibber's   Apology,  p.  412. 


152  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

is  Dr.  Wolf,  a  disguised  Papist,  whose  machinations  and 
profligacy  almost  accomplish  the  ruin  of  an  English 
gentleman  and  his  family.  According  to  Genest,  the 
piece  was  acted  twenty-three  times,  and  was  accounted 
a  notable  success.  George  I  was  so  pleased  with  it,  that 
he  gave  not  only  his  permission  for  the  printed  edition 
to  be  dedicated  to  himself,  but  presented  the  author 
with  £200. 

The  remarkable  popularity  of  a  play  ostensibly  written 
to  bring  them  into  disrepute  made  the  refractory  Jaco- 
bites very  angry.  They,  however,  prudently  refrained 
from  overtly  manifesting  their  wrath  lest  they  should  be 
brought  into  sharp  conflict  with  the  powerful  Whig 
faction  ;  but  they  knew,  says  Gibber,  that  "  it  would 
not  be  long  before  they  might  with  more  security  give 
a  loose  to  their  spleen,  and  make  up  accounts  with 
me."i 

The  prophecy  did  not  remain  unfulfilled.  The  Tories 
pursued  him  with  a  malignity  which  at  least  was 
ingenious.  We  read  in  the  Apology  :  "  Soon  after  the 
Non-Juror  had  received  the  favour  of  the  town,  I  read 
in  one  of  Mr.  Mist's  Weekly  Journals,  the  following 
short  paragraph,  viz.,  '  Yesterday  died  Mr.  Colley  Gibber, 
late  Comedian  of  the  Theatre  Royal,  notorious  for  writing 
the  Non-Juror.'  "^  Unfortunately  for  the  Jacobites,  the 
announcement  was  premature,  for  Gibber,  fresh  from 
reading  his  obituary,  went  to  the  theatre,  and  quietly 
stole  himself  into  the  part  of  the  Ghaplain  in  Otway's 
The  Orphan.  "  The  surprise  of  the  audience  at  my 
unexpected  appearance  on  the  very  day  I  had  been 
dead  .  .  .  seemed  to  make  it  a  doubt  whether  I  was 
not  the  ghost  of  my  real  self  departed.  But  when  I 
spoke,  their  wonder  eased  itself  by  an  applause  which 

1  Apology,  1889.  ed.  ii,  187. 
*  Ibid.,  ii.  188. 


COLLEY   CIBBER  153 

convinced  me  they  were  then  satisfied,  that  my  friend 
Mist  had  told  a  Fib  of  me."  ^ 

Such  was  the  invincible  hatred  of  the  Jacobites,  that 
when  one  project  for  Gibber's  extinction  failed,  they  lost 
no  time  in  tr3ang  another.  They  had  comforted  them- 
selves with  the  thought  that  an  illness  which  their  enemy 
had  had  would  bring  the  consummation  which  they  most 
devoutly  wished  ;  but  alas  !  Gibber  was  alive  and  as 
irrepressible  as  ever.  His  plays  were  now  violently 
attacked,  and  the  unscrupulous  pamphleteer  was  set  to 
work.  The  latter  was  seen  at  his  best  in  a  lampoon, 
entitled,  The  Theatre  Royal  turned  into  a  Montebank's 
Stage,  in  which  The  Non- Juror  and  its  author  were  whole- 
heartedly reviled.  Had  Gibber  been  a  less  complacent 
man  than  he  was,  he  must  surely  have  succumbed  under 
the  tornado  of  abuse  which  this  squib  contained.  After 
proclaiming  that  his  crime  was  being, 

A   Felon   in   Verse, 
And   presenting  the  Theft   to   the   King, 

the  hireling  readily  fastens  on  the  weak  point  of  Gibber's 

armour — his  unblushing  plagiarism, 

Thou  Cur,  half  Dane,  half  English  Breed, 
Thou  Mongrel  of  Parnassus. 

In  t'other  World  expect  dry  Blows, 
No  tears  can  wash  thy  stains  out, 

Moli^re  will  pull  thee  by  the  Nose, 
And  Shakespeare  dash  thy  brains  out. 

Gibber,  remarks  Genest,  "  deserved  all  the  abuse  and 
enmity  that  he  met  with."  ^  Very  probably  he  did,  for 
he  made  no  secret  of  the  fact  that  it  was  not  for  nothing 
that  he  had  truncheoned  the  Tories.  "  That  Part  of  the 
Bread  I  now  eat  was  given  me  for  having  writ  the  Non- 
Juror,"  3    he    confesses    with    engaging    candour.     The 

»  Apology,  1889,  ed.  ii,  188. 

*  Account  of  the  English  Stage,  ii,  216. 

«  Apology,   1889,  ed.  ii,   190. 


154  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

reference  is  to  the  Laureateship,  to  which  Gibber  was 
appointed  on  the  death  of  Eusden  in  1730. 

But,  in  truth,  it  was  hardly  necessary  to  be  reminded 
that  Gibber's  promotion  was  a  political  job,  for  it  is 
inconceivable  that  he  could  have  received  the  laurel  on 
the  strength  of  his  successful  courting  of  the  Muses. 
The  mastery  of  Apollo's  lute  was  as  little  known  to  him 
as  it  was  to  the  crowd  of  minor  bards  who  presumptu- 
ously had  set  their  hearts  on  the  Laureateship,  but  from 
whose  attentions  a  wit  prayed  that  His  Majesty  might 
be  mercifully  preserved. 

Shall  roval  praise  be  rhym'd  by  such  a  ribald. 

As  fopling  Gibber,  or  attorney  Tibbald  ? 

Let's  rather  wait  one  year  for  better  luck  ; 

One  year  may  make  a  singing  swan  of  Duck. 
Great  George,  such  servants  since  thou  well  canst  lack. 
Oh  !    save  the  salary,  and  drink  the  sack. 

The  most  that  can  be  said  of  Gibber  in  his  capacity  as 

Poet  Laureate  is  that  he  was  superior  to  Eusden,  and 

that  he  was  not  remiss  in  discharging  his  duties.     With 

him  the  writing  of  odes  was  a  mere  mechanical  exercise 

to  be  got  through  with  the  least  expenditure  of  time  and 

trouble.     No  one  who  has  read  the  specimens  scattered 

up   and   down   the   early   volumes   of   the    Gentleman's 

Magazine  will  deny  that  Gibber  was  never  destined  to 

scale    the    lower    slopes,    much    less    the    heights    of 

Parnassus.     Here  is  how  he  stirred  the  patriotic  ardour 

of  his  countrymen — 

When  her  pride,  fierce  in  arms. 

Would  to  Europe  give  law  ; 

At  her  cost  let  her  come, 

To  our  cheer  of  huzza  ! 

Not  lightning  with  thunder  more  terrible  darts, 

Than  the  burst  of  huzza  from  our  bold  British  hearts. 

His  first  New  Year's  ode  was  but  the  composition  of  a 
respectable  poetaster,  and  may  be  regarded  as  typical 
of  the  rest. 


COLLEY   CIBBER  155 

Once  more  the  ever  circling  sun, 
Through  the  celestial  signs  has  run  ; 
Again  old  Time  inverts  his  glass, 
And  bids  the  annual  seasons  pass. 

The  youthful  spring  shall  call  for  the  birth, 

And  glad  with  opening  flowers  the  earth  ; 

Fair  summer  load  with  sheaves  the  field, 

And  golden  fruits  shall  autumn  yield  : 

Each,  to  the  winter's  want,  their  stores  shall  bring 

Till  warmer  genial  suns  recall  the  spring. 

Ye   grateful   Britons,   bless  the  year 

That   kindly  yields  increase, 
WTiile  plenty  that  might  feed  a  war 

Enjoys  the  guard  of  peace. 

Your  plenty  to  the  skies  you  owe  ; 

Peace  is  your  monarch's  care  ; 
Thus  bounteous  Jove,  and  George  below 

Divided  empire  share  ! 

Turn,  happy  Britons,  to  the  throne  your  eyes. 

And  in  the  royal  offspring  see 
How  amply  bounteous  Providence  supplies 

The  source  of  your  felicity  ! 

Behold  in  every  face. 

Imperial  graces  shine  ! 
All  native  to  the  race 

Of  George  and  Caroline. 

The  manner  of  Gibber's  appointment  to  the  Laureate- 
ship,  and  the  wretched  proof  he  gave  of  his  fitness  for 
the  post,  caused  him  to  be  perhaps  the  best-abused  man 
of  his  time.  In  fact,  the  history  of  his  later  years  was 
largely  a  record  of  his  feuds  with  some  of  the  foremost 
men  of  letters  of  his  day,  and  with  many  of  the  most 
obscure.  The  chief  of  these,  and  the  most  truculent, 
was  Pope.  As  Dryden  kept  Shadwell  from  the  pit  of 
oblivion  by  making  him  the  hero  of  MacFlecknoe,  so 
Pope  preserved  Gibber  from  a  similar  fate  by  scourging 
him  in  The  Dunciad. 

Originally  that  distinction  had  been  bestowed  on 
Gibber's  rival  for  the  Laureateship,  Theobald  ;   but  when 


156  THE   POETS  LAUREATE 

the  1743  edition  of  The  Dunciad  came  out,  it  was  found 
that  Theobald  had  been  dethroned,  and  that  Gibber 
reigned  in  his  stead.  Colley,  it  must  be  confessed, 
proved  too  easy  a  mark  for  the  shafts  which  came  from 
Pope's  quiver,  though  the  attempt  to  make  him  out  a 
dunce  totally  failed.  But  of  his  coxcombry  and 
plagiarisms,  Pope  makes  excellent  sport. 

High  on  a  gorgeous  seat,  that  far  out-shone 

Henley's  gilt  tub,  or  Fleckno's  Irish  throne, 

Or  that  whereon  her  Curlls  the  public  pours, 

All  bounteous,  fragrant  grains  and  golden  showers. 

Great  Cibber  sat  :  the  proud  Parnassian  sneer. 

The  conscious  simper,  and  the  jealous  leer. 

Mix  on  his  look  :  all  eyes  direct  their  rays 

On  him,  and  crowds  turn  coxcombs  as  they  gaze. 

His  peers  shine  round  him  with  reflected  grace, 

New  edge  their  dullness,  and  new  bronze  their  face. 

And  now  that  Eusden  "  thirsts  no  more  for  sack  or 
praise  "  and  "  sleeps  among  the  dull  of  ancient  days," 
Gibber's  chance  has  come. 

Thou  Cibber  !    thou,  his  laurel  shall  support. 
Folly,  my  son,  has  still  a  friend  at  Court. 
Lift  up  your  gates,  ye  princes,  see  him  come  ! 
Sound,  sound  ye  viols,  be  the  cat-call  dumb  ! 
Bring,  bring  the  madding  bay,  the  drunken  vine  ; 
The  creeping,  dirty,  courtly  ivy  join. 

Then  swells  the  chapel-royal  throat : 
God  save  king  Cibber  !    mounts  in  every  note. 
FamiUar  White's,  God  save  king  Colley  !    cries  ; 
God  save  king  Colley  !    Drury-lane  replies. 

Pope  is  also  said  to  be  the  author  of  the  burlesque 
account  of  the  office  of  Poet  Laureate,  which  is  usually 
printed  in  the  appendix  to  The  Dunciad.  This  skit, 
which  was  first  pubhshed  in  1730,  the  year  of  Gibber's 
promotion  to  the  Laureateship,  urges  that  a  canticle 
should  be  composed  and  sung  in  praise  of  the  new  poet. 
Pope  thereafter  suggests  that  no  one  is  so  well  qualified 


COLLEY   GIBBER  157 

to  write  and  sing  the  canticle  as  Gibber  himself,  and 
then,  with  excellent  raillery,  he  recommends  the  holding 
of  a  public  show  in  which  the  new  Laureate  might  "  with 
great  propriety  and  beauty  ride  on  a  dragon,  if  he  goes 
by  land  ;  or  if  he  chuse  the  water,  upon  one  of  his  own 
swans  from  CcBsar  in  Egypt.  But  Apollo  claims  his 
indefeasible  right." 

Well,  said  Apollo,  still  'tis  mine 

To  give  the  real  laurel, 
For  that,   my  Pope,  my  son  divine. 

Of  rivals  ends  the  quarrel. 
But  guessing  who  would  have  the  luck 

To  be  the  birth-day  fibber, 
I  thought  of  Dennis,  Tibbald,  Duck, 

But  never  dreamt  of  Cibber  ! 

In  the  Augustan  age  of  English  letters,  authors'  quarrels, 
whatever  else  they  might  be,  were  usually  obscure  in 
origin,  but  extremely  bitter  and  protracted  in  their  out- 
come. The  historic  duel  between  Pope  and  Gibber 
affords  a  good  example.  What  excited  Pope's  ire, 
according  to  Gibber,  was  his  introducing  while  acting 
Bayes  in  The  Rehearsal,  a  clever  but  mild  impromptu 
ridiculing  Three  Hours  After  Marriage,  of  which  Pope 
was  part  author  with  Gay  and  Arbuthnot.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  performance.  Pope,  says  Gibber,  "  came 
behind  the  scenes  ...  to  call  me  to  account  for  the 
insult.  And  accordingly  fell  upon  me  with  all  the  foul 
language  that  a  wit  out  of  his  senses  would  be  capable 
of  .  .  .  choked  with  the  foam  of  his  passion."  ^  Gibber 
insisted  upon  the  privilege  of  the  character  of  Baj^es, 
and  was  quite  unrepentant.  But  this  version  of  the 
origin  of  the  quarrel  may  well  be  doubted,  since  it 
implies  that  so  irascible  a  man  as  Pope  was  capable  of 
restraining  his  fury  for  five-and-twenty  years.  The 
incident  to  which  Gibber  refers,  occurred  in  1717,whereas 

1  Apology,  1889,  ed.  ii,  274. 


158  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

the  edition  of  The  Dunciad  in  which  Pope  satirised  him 
did  not  appear  until  1743. 

A  more  plausible  explanation  is  that,  after  the  failure 
of  Three  Hours  After  Marriage,  Pope  became  jealous  of 
Gibber's  dramatic  success,  and  that  the  jealousy  was 
intensified  by  his  receiving  the  laurel.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  Gibber  replied  to  Pope's  onslaughts  in  two  letters. 
The  first  appeared  in  1742,  and  was  entitled,  "  A  Letter 
from  Mr.  Gibber  to  Mr.  Pope,  inquiring  into  the  motives 
that  might  induce  him  in  his  Satyrical  Works,  to  be  so 
frequently  fond  of  Mr.  Gibber's  name."  Pope  thereupon 
placed  Gibber  on  the  throne  of  Dulness  in  The  Dunciad, 
in  place  of  Theobald.  In  1744  Gibber  replied  in  a  second 
epistle,  entitled  "  Another  Occasional  Letter  from  Mr. 
Gibber  to  Mr.  Pope.  Wherein  the  New  Hero's  Prefer- 
ment to  his  Throne,  in  The  Dunciad,  seems  not  to  be 
Accepted.  And  the  Author  of  that  Poem  His  more 
rightful  Glaim  to  it,  is  Asserted.     With  An  Expostulatory 

Address  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  W.  W n,  Author  of 

the  new  Preface,  and  Adviser  in  the  curious  Improvements 
of  that  Satire." 

One  cannot  but  admire  the  good  sense,  and  the  com- 
paratively mild  and  equable  spirit  which  pervades 
Gibber's  epistles.  Gonsidering  the  provocation  he  had 
had,  his  treatment  of  his  enemy  may  almost  be  said 
to  be  generous.  Pope  had  taunted  him  with  having 
failed  in  tragedy,  and  had  set  him  down  a  dunce.  To 
this.  Gibber  sagaciously  and  convincingly  replied  :  "  If  I 
have  made  so  many  crowded  theatres  laugh,  and  in  the 
right  place,  too,  for  above  forty  years  together,  am  I  to 
make  up  the  number  of  your  dunces  because  I  have  not 
the  equal  talent  of  making  them  cry  too  ?  .  .  .  What 
mighty  reason  will  the  world  have  to  laugh  at  my 
weakness  in  tragedy,  more  than  at  yours  in  comedy  ?  " 

Gibber  had  reason  on  his  side,  too,  when  he  declared 


COLLEY   GIBBER  159 

that  Pope's  portrait  of  him  in  The  Dunciad  savoured 
more  of  calumny  than  of  satire.  In  accusing  Colley  of 
being  a  dunce,  Pope  missed  the  mark. 

She  mounts  the  throne  :  her  head  a  cloud  conceal'd, 
In  broad  effulgence  all  below  reveal'd  ; 
(Tis  thus  aspiring  Dullness  ever  shines  :) 
Soft  on  her  lap  her  laureate  son  reclines. 

Now,  dulness  could  not  justly  be  laid  to  Gibber's  charge, 
whereas  vanity  and  avarice  could.  But  these  foibles 
Pope  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  touched. 

And  with  good  sense,  Gibber  combined  good  feeling. 
Pope  was  nothing  if  not  savage,  but  there  was  more  than 
a  suggestion  of  magnanimity  about  his  adversary. 
Wrote  Gibber  :  "  When  ...  I  find  my  name  at  length 
in  the  satyrical  works  of  our  most  celebrated  living  author, 
I  never  look  upon  those  lines  as  malice  meant  to  me 
(for  he  knows  I  never  provoked  it),  but  profit  to  himself. 
One  of  his  points  must  be  to  have  many  readers  ;  he 
considers  that  my  face  and  name  are  more  known  than 
those  of  many  thousands  of  more  consequence  in  the 
kingdom  ;  that,  therefore,  right  or  wrong,  a  lick  at  the 
Laureat  will  always  be  a  sure  bait,  ad  captandum  vulgus, 
to  catch  him  little  readers."  ^ 

Gibber  said  regarding  this  historic  literary  feud  that 
he  made  Pope  "  as  uneasy  as  a  rat  in  a  hot  kettle  for  a 
twelvemonth  together."  There  is  a  note  of  triumph 
about  the  observation,  and  it  was  justified.  Pope's 
Dunciad  wiU  live  as  long  as  English  literature.  Never- 
theless, the  satire  was  unjust  and  malicious  to  Gibber — 
unjust  because  it  ridiculed  the  Laureate  instead  of 
those  who  elevated  him  to  a  position  for  which 
he  was  totally  unfit,  malicious  because  it  selected 
as  objects  of  satire  with  a  view  to  heightening 
the  picture,  foibles  of  which  Gibber  was  hardly  guilty. 

>  Apology,  1889.  ed.  i.  35-6. 


160  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

The  literary  triumph  was  Pope's,  but  the  moral  victory 
was  Gibber's. 

Johnson  was  also  a  formidable  though  not  an  implac- 
able enemy.  There  was  a  time  when  Gibber  and  the 
lexicographer  were  friendly,  as  we  are  reminded  by  the 
incident,  recorded  by  Boswell,  of  Gibber  asking  Johnson 
to  revise  one  of  his  Birthday  odes,  and  of  the  latter's 
compliance.  The  Laureate,  however,  did  not  approve 
of  the  emendations,  which  was  foolish  if  the  couplet 
quoted  by  Johnson  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  rest  of 
the  poem. 

Perch 'd   on   the   eagle's   soaring   wing. 
The  lowly  linnet  loves  to  sing, 

the  eagle  being  King  George,  and  the  linnet  his  humble 
Laureate.  Johnson  gave  another  version  of  this  episode 
to  the  effect  that  Gibber's  ode  was  so  nonsensical  that 
he  would  not  allow  him  to  read  to  the  end.  One  thing, 
however,  is  clear.  Johnson  regarded  Gibber  as  a  poor 
poet.  He  was  among  the  versifiers  who  ridiculed  his 
Laureateship,  though  the  epigram  is  as  severe  on  the 
King  as  on  Gibber. 

Augustus  still  survives  in  Marc's  strain, 
And  Spenser's  verse  prolongs  Eliza's  reign  ; 
Great  George's  acts  let  tuneful  Cibber  sing. 
For  Nature  formed  the  Poet  for  that  King. 

Johnson  had  even  less  respect  for  the  man.  He  refers 
to  Gibber  as  a  "  poor  creature,"  and  marvels  that  one 
half  of  his  conversation  should  consist  of  oaths  when  he 
had  kept  "  the  best  company,  and  learnt  all  that  can 
be  got  by  the  ear."  Johnson  confided  to  Malone  that 
"  Gibber  was  much  more  ignorant  even  of  matters 
relating  to  his  own  profession  than  he  could  well  have 
conceived  any  man  to  be  who  had  lived  nearly  sixty 
years  with   players,   authors,   and   the   most   celebrated 


COLLEY   GIBBER  161 

characters  of  his  age."  ^  It  was  said  that  Gibber  was 
the  cause  of  Johnson  being  kept  waiting,  on  a  memor- 
able occasion,  in  the  ante-chamber  of  Lord  Ghesterfield  ; 
but  the  story  was  denied  on  the  best  authority,  i.e.,  the 
lexicographer  himself. 

Fielding,  who  seems  to  have  resented  Gibber's  treat- 
ment of  his  comedies,  was  a  more  rancorous  foe.  The 
novelist  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  telling  the  world 
his  opinion  of  Gibber.  Indeed,  so  violent  was  his 
animosity,  that  he  could  hardly  put  pen  to  paper  with- 
out dragging  in  a  sneering  reference  to  the  Laureate. 
In  Joseph  Andrews  his  name  repeatedly  occurs.  "  How 
completely  doth  Gibber  arm  us  against  so  uneasy,  so 
wretched  a  passion  as  the  fear  of  shame,"  remarks 
Fielding  in  the  first  chapter  of  Book  I.  Again,  in  address- 
ing the  Genius  that  presides  over  Biography,  we  read  : 
"  Thou,  who,  without  the  assistance  of  the  least  spice  of 
literature,  and  even  against  his  inclination,  hast,  in  some 
pages  of  his  book,  forced  Golley  Gibber  to  write  English."  ^ 

When  2nd  Voter  in  Pasquin  ^  pleads  for  a  position  at 
Gourt,  Lord  Place  promises  that  he  shall  be  Poet 
Laureate.  The  former  replies  that  he  cannot  make 
verses,  whereupon  Lord  Place  assures  him  that  he 
"  may  be  qualified  for  the  place  without  being  a  poet." 
In  the  Historical  Register,  Gibber,  as  "  Ground-Ivy,"  is 
roundly  abused  for  having  mangled  Shakespeare.  The 
Laureate,  on  the  other  hand,  called  Fielding  a  "  broken 
wit  "  ;  and  Mr.  Austin  Dobson  mentions  that  either  the 
novelist's  stature  or  his  pseudonym  in  the  Champion 
were  responsible  for  two  additional  epithets — 
"  Herculean  Satyrist  "  and  "  Drawcansir  in  Wit."  ^ 

But  if  Gibber  incurred  the  fury  of  Pope  and  Fielding, 
and  the  ill-will  of  Johnson,  he  was  occasionally  admired 

'  Prior's  Life  of  M alone,  p.  95.  '  Act  ii,  Scene  i. 

*  Joseph  A  ndrews,  Book  iii,  chap.  vi.  *  Life  of  Fielding,  p.  67. 

II— (2341) 


162  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

b}^  Swift,  Goldsmith,  Steele,  Richardson,  and  Horace 
Walpole.  Swift,  it  is  true,  had  written  an  epigram 
about  Gibber  ;  but  when  he  received  his  copy  of  the 
Apology,  he  was  so  entranced,  that  he  did  not  go  to  bed 
until  he  had  read  the  book  through.  ^  It  was  the 
Apology,  too.  Goldsmith  had  in  mind  when  he  wrote  : 
"  There  are  few  who  do  not  prefer  a  page  of  Montaigne 
or  Colley  Gibber,  who  candidly  tell  us  what  they  thought 
of  the  world,  and  the  world  thought  of  them,  to  the 
more  stately  memoirs  and  transactions  of  Europe."  ^ 
Steele  was  Gibber's  colleague  in  the  management  of 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  but  there  seems  no  reason  to  doubt 
the  sincerity  of  the  commendatory  references  in  the 
Spectator  and  the  Tatler.  To  Horace  Walpole,  again, 
Gibber  was  "  that  good  humoured  and  honest  veteran, 
so  unworthily  aspersed  by  Pope,  whose  memoirs,  with 
one  or  two  of  his  comedies,  will  secure  his  fame  in  spite 
of  all  the  abuse  of  his  contemporaries."  Richardson, 
too,  thought  highly  of  the  man  whom  his  fellow-novelist, 
Fielding,  so  heartily  detested,  and  was  annoyed  because 
Johnson  "  did  not  treat  Gibber  with  more  respect." 

After  his  retirement  from  the  stage  in  1733,  Gibber 
devoted  himself  chiefly  to  the  writing  of  his  auto- 
biography, and  to  warding  off  the  attacks  of  his  enemies. 
The  latter  was  an  undertaking  which  might  well  have 
caused  a  much  stronger  man  than  Gibber  to  hesitate. 
His  adversaries,  both  literary  and  political,  were 
numerous,  well-equipped,  relentless,  and  powerful. 
Though  possessed  of  much  shrewdness,  and  frequently 
exhibiting  a  generous  spirit,  Gibber  was  no  match  for 
Pope  or  Fielding  so  far  as  satire  was  concerned.  But, 
clothed  with  the  adamantine  confidence  of  mediocrity, 
he  fondly  believed  that  he  was  slaying  his  enemies  when 

*  Davies'  Dramatic  Miscellanief^,  iii,  477, 

*  Cunningham's  Goldsmith,  iv,  4'V 


COLLEY   GIBBER  163 

he  was  only  providing  them  with  fresh  material  for  their 
warfare  of  words. 

No  good  purpose  would  be  served  by  attempting  to 
enumerate  the  lampoons,  which  obscure  and  waspish 
rivals,  anxious  to  have  a  "  lick  at  the  Laureat," 
showered  upon  the  unlucky  Gibber  ;  but  the  compre- 
hensive titles  of  two  of  them  convey  an  excellent  idea 
of  the  spirit  which  animated  the  majority.  One  was 
entitled  :  "A  blast  upon  Bays  ;  or,  a  new  lick  at  the 
Laureat.  Containing,  remarks  upon  a  late  tatling  per- 
formance, entitled,  A  letter  from  Mr.  Gibber  to  Mr. 
Pope,  &c.  And  lo  there  appeared  an  old  woman.  Vide 
the  Letter  throughout  "  (1742).  The  other  bore  an  even 
longer  title  :  "  The  Laureat,  or,  the  right  side  of  Golley 
Gibber,  Esq.  ;  containing  explanations,  amendments, 
and  observations,  on  a  book  intituled.  An  apology  for 
the  life  and  writings  of  Mr.  Golley  Gibber.  Not  written 
by  himself.  With  some  anecdotes  of  the  Laureat, 
which  he  (thro'  an  excess  of  modesty)  omitted."  In 
this  inflammatory  epistle,  the  Apology  is  reviewed  in 
detail — 

There  are  some  good  things  in  thy  Book,  old  Colley, 
But  all  the  rest  is  self-sufficient  folly. 

There  also  appeared  a  comic  sketch  of  his  life  entitled, 
The  Life,  Manners,  and  Opinions  of  Msopus  the  Tragedian, 
in  which  much  capital  is  made  out  of  Gibber's  literary 
borrowings. 

It  was  well  for  Gibber  that  he  was  not  a  sensitive  man, 
otherwise  this  ceaseless  warfare,  even  though  it  was  only 
the  strife  of  words,  would  have  broken  his  spirit  and 
probably  sent  him  to  a  premature  grave.  A  child  of 
misfortune,  he  was  by  no  means  a  child  of  grief.  The 
natural  buoyancy  of  his  nature  exorcised  dull  care  and 
fretfulness,  while  his  invincible  belief  in  his  own  moral 


164  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

and  intellectual  integrity  kept  him  from  becoming  a 
prey  to  doubts  and  fears.  Life  for  him  never  assumed 
a  sombre  hue.  He  was  radiant  to  the  end.  Fame, 
riches,  the  kindly  companionship  of  kindred  hearts,  the 
applause  of  the  crowd,  which  was  as  music  in  his  ear — 
these  were  the  trophies  of  his  old  age. 

On  a  winter  day  in  1757  the  Poet  Laureate  breathed 
his  last.  Where  he  died  is  not  definitely  known.  At 
one  time  he  lived  near  the  "  Bull's  Head  "  tavern  in  old 
Spring  Gardens,  at  Charing  Cross  ;  but,  in  later  years, 
his  house  was  in  Berkeley  Square.  Here,  according  to 
some  authorities,  he  died  ;  but  others  affirm  that  his 
death  occurred  in  a  house  next  the  "  Castle  "  tavern, 
Islington.  Cibber  was  buried  beside  his  father  in  the 
vaults  of  what  was  formerly  the  Danish  Church,  White- 
chapel,  but  is  now  the  British  and  Foreign  Sailors' 
Church. 

Contemporary  testimony  regarding  Cibber's  personal 
appearance  is  somewhat  conflicting.  In  the  Gentleman  s 
Magazine,  he  is  described  as  having  had  a  finely-pro- 
portioned figure,  but  an  awkward  gait.  "  His  attitudes," 
the  journal  adds,  "  were  pointed  and  exquisite  ;  his 
expression  was  stronger  than  painting,"  while  "  his  very 
extravagances  were  coloured  with  propriety."  Davies, 
on  the  other  hand,  alludes  to  his  expressionless  face,  ^  an 
opinion  which  is  hardly  borne  out  by  the  famous  portrait 
of  him  as  Lord  Foppington  in  The  Relapse.  Davies  also 
says  that  Cibber's  voice  was  weak,  and  that  he  was  a 
failure  in  tragic  acting.  Equally  unfavourable  is  the 
judgment  of  the  author  of  The  Laureate  :  "He  was  in 
stature  of  the  middle  size,  his  complexion  fair,  inclining 
to  the  sandy  ;  his  legs  somewhat  of  the  thickest  ;  his 
shape  a  little  clumsy,  not  irregular  ;  and  his  voice  rather 
shrill   than   loud   or  articulate,   and   cracked  extremely 

•   Dramatic  Miscellames,  iii,  427. 


COLLEY   CIBBER  165 

when  he  endeavoured  to  raise  it.  He  was  in  his  younger 
days  so  lean  as  to  be  known  by  the  name  of  Hatchet 
Face." 

Gibber's  character  was  not  more  inspiring  than  his  out- 
ward aspect.  His  egotism  was  colossal,  and  his  code  of 
honour  not  particularly  high.  Moreover,  though  his 
plays  show  a  distinct  advance  in  decency,  he  was  by  no 
means  a  paragon  of  virtue.  Emulating  those  fops  whom 
he  depicted  in  his  comedies,  he  wasted  his  substance  in 
riotous  living.  And  he  was  a  notorious  gambler.  But 
his  character  was  not  without  redeeming  features.  He 
had  a  mild  and  equable  temper. 

Judging  by  a  reference  in  the  Apology,  his  domestic 
life  seems  to  have  been  happy.  When  a  struggling 
actor  of  two-and-twenty,  he,  with  more  courage  than 
prudence,  married  the  sister  of  John  Shore,  "  sergeant 
trumpet  "  of  England  ;  and  the  number  of  his  children 
kept  pace  with  the  number  of  his  plays.  "  It  may  be 
observable,  too,  that  my  muse  and  my  spouse  were 
equally  prolific  ;  that  the  one  was  seldom  the  mother 
of  a  child,  but  in  the  same  year  the  other  made  me  the 
father  of  a  play.  I  think  we  had  a  dozen  of  each  sort 
between  us,  of  both  which  kinds  some  died  in  their 
infancy,  and  near  an  equal  number  of  each  were  alive 
when  I  quitted  the  theatre."^  His  son,  Theophilus 
(1703-58),  was  also  an  actor  and  dramatist. 

As  has  been  already  indicated.  Gibber  drew  little  from 
the  springs  of  Helicon.  He  was  separated  from  the 
miserable  crowd  of  scribblers  who  vented  their  spleen  in 
execrable  and  unsavoury  verse  by  a  very  narrow  gulf. 
To  say,  however,  that  Gibber  would  have  been  forgotten 
had  not  Pope  made  him  the  hero  of  the  revised  version 
of  The  Dunciad  would  be  to  say  too  much.  His  Apology 
for  the  Life  of  Mr.  Colley  Cibber,  Comedian,  is,  indeed,  a 

1  Apology,  i,  267. 


166  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

remarkable  achievement,  containing,  as  it  does,  not  only 
a  masterly  portrait  of  the  vainglorious  Colley,  but  a 
wonderfully  impressive  picture  of  the  condition  of  the 
stage  in  the  reigns  of  Anne  and  the  first  two  Georges. 
There  are  passages  in  the  Apology,  it  has  been  well  said, 
which  are  likely  to  live  as  long  as  the  drama  itself. 

It  was  really  in  the  world  of  the  drama  that  Cibber 
lived,  and  moved,  and  had  his  being.  The  greatest 
theatrical  figure  of  his  age,  he  could  both  write  and  act 
successful  comedy.  Most  of  his  plays,  no  doubt,  make 
wearisome  reading  nowadays,  but  let  it  not  be  forgotten 
that  She  Would  and  She  Would  Not  had  sufficient  vitality 
in  it  to  justify  its  revival  towards  the  close  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  While,  however,  doing  honour  to  the 
clever  delineator  of  the  heau  monde  of  his  day,  it  is 
impossible  to  ignore  the  fact  that  it  was  not  by  any 
means  a  red-letter  day  in  the  annals  of  English  poetry 
when  Cibber  was  added  to  the  roll  of  Poets  Laureate. 


CHAPTER   X 

WILLIAM    WHITEHEAD 

When  Cibber  died  full  of  years  though  not  of  honour, 
it  seemed  as  if  the  Laureateship  was  about  to  enter  on 
a  new  and  lustrous  period  of  its  history.  Almost  seventy 
years  had  elapsed  since  Dryden  had  been  relieved  of  the 
laurel  because  of  his  recusancy,  and  during  that  time 
the  office  had  been  held  by  five  men — Shadwell,  Tate, 
Rowe,  Eusden,  and  Cibber — not  one  of  whom  was  worthy 
to  rank  even  as  a  poet  of  the  second  rank.  The  Laureate- 
ship  had,  in  fact,  become  degraded.  Politics  had  usurped 
the  place  of  the  Muses.  The  meanest  versifier  was 
eligible  for  the  post  provided  he  was  zealous  in  upholding 
the  Hanoverian  dynasty,  and  had  sufficient  influence  to 
push  his  claims  at  Court.  It  is,  perhaps,  too  much  to 
say  that  not  one  of  the  Laureates  mentioned  contributed 
so  much  as  a  single  couplet  to  the  permanent  enrichment 
of  English  poetry,  but  the  statement  certainly  approxi- 
mates to  the  truth.  To  recall  the  names  of  those  men 
is  to  recall  a  very  doubtful  literary  legacy — crude,  vapid 
verse,  in  which  was  sung  the  praises  of  some  of  the  worse 
types  of  British  monarchy. 

What  precisely  were  the  reflections  of  the  Duke  of 
Devonshire  when,  in  1757,  he  was  called  upon,  as  Lord 
Chamberlain,  to  fill  the  vacant  Laureateship,  history 
does  not  record.  It  would  appear,  however,  that  he  was 
more  than  dimly  conscious  that  the  office  of  Court  poet 
was  in  a  bad  way,  and  that  something  ought  to  be  done 
to  rehabilitate  it  in  the  eyes  of  all  lovers  of  English 
poetry.  At  all  events,  he  did  two  things  which  redound 
greatly  to  his  credit.     He  offered  the  Laureateship  to 

167 


168  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Thomas  Gray,  and  he  made  the  wise  and  generous  sug- 
gestion that  the  author  of  the  Elegy  should  consider  him- 
self free  from  the  irksomeness  of  having  to  produce  with 
mechanical  regularity  two  royal  odes  every  year.  In 
other  words,  Gray  was  to  regard  the  post  pretty  much 
as  a  sinecure. 

The  offer,  which  was  made  through  the  poet's  friend, 
William  Mason,  was  declined.  Nor  was  this  very  sur- 
prising. That  a  poet  like  Gray,  who  aimed  at,  and 
attained  to,  a  style  marked  by  "  extreme  conciseness 
of  expression,  yet  pure,  perspicuous,  and  musical  "(to 
quote  his  own  words),  should  allow  himself  to  go  down 
to  posterity  in  the  company  of  writers  of  inflated  doggerel 
like  Tate,  Eusden,  and  Cibber,  is  inconceivable.  The 
offtce,  in  Gray's  view,  had  always  humbled  its  possessor  ; 
"if  he  were  a  poor  writer,  by  making  him  more  con- 
spicuous ;  and  if  he  were  a  good  one,  by  setting  him  at 
war  with  the  little  fry  of  his  own  profession  "  ;  for,  he 
adds,  with  withering  sarcasm,  "  there  are  poets  little 
enough  to  envy  a  poet  laureate."  ^ 

Gray  would  not  even  accept  the  post  as  a  sinecure. 
"  Though  I  very  well  know  the  bland,  emollient,  sapon- 
aceous qualities  both  of  sack  and  silver,"  he  wrote  to 
Mason  on  19th  December,  1757,  "  yet,  if  any  man  would 
say  to  me,  '  I  make  you  rat-catcher  to  his  Majesty,  with 
a  salary  of  £300  a  year  and  two  butts  of  the  best  Malaga  ; 
and,  though  it  has  been  usual  to  catch  a  mouse  or  two, 
for  form's  sake,  in  public  once  a  year,  yet  to  you.  Sir, 
we  shall  not  stand  upon  these  things,'  I  cannot  say  I 
should  jump  at  it  ;  nay,  if  they  would  drop  the  very 
name  of  the  office,  and  call  me  Sinecure  to  the  King's 
Majesty,  I  should  still  feel  a  little  awkward,  and  think 
everybody  I  saw  smelt  a  rat  about  me."* 

*  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  ii,  345-6. 
«  Ibid.,  ii,  344-5. 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  169 

Though  contemptuously  refusing  the  office  for  himself, 
Gray  nevertheless  was  anxious  that  some  poet  should 
accept  it,  and  try  to  "  retrieve  the  credit  of  the  thing 
if  it  be  retrievable,  or  ever  had  any  credit."  Accord- 
ingly, he  must  have  been  gratified  when  his  friend,  Mason, 
to  whom  he  had  been  attracted  by  his  poem  Muscbus 
(1747),  a  lament  for  Pope  in  imitation  of  Milton's  Lycidas, 
was  proposed  as  Gibber's  successor.  Mason  tried  hard 
to  obtain  the  laurel,  but  the  Lord  Chamberlain  set  aside 
his  claims  on  the  ground  "  that  being  in  orders,  he  was 
thought  less  eligible  than  a  layman,"  a  flimsy  excuse, 
considering  that  Eusden  was  a  clergyman,  and  a  rather 
disreputable  one. 

The  real  reason,  doubtless,  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  Earl 
of  Jersey  was  bringing  pressure  to  bear  on  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  in  favour  of  William  Whitehead,  who  is 
alluded  to  in  a  couplet  in  a  satire  entitled,  The  Laurel,  or 
the  Contests  of  the  Poets  (1785). 

Next  Whitehead  came,  his  worth  a  pinch  of  snuflf, 
But  for  a  Laureat — he  was  good  enough. 

And  so  it  would  seem,  for  the  conditions  of  the  Laureate- 
ship,  though  relaxed  in  Gray's  case,  were  rigorously 
reimposed  in  Whitehead's.  Mason  expresses  surprise 
in  his  memoir  of  Whitehead  that  the  post  was  not 
offered  to  that  poet  as  a  sinecure,  as  it  had  been  to 
Gray,  and  adds,  sarcastically,  that  "  the  King  (George  II) 
would  readily  have  dispensed  with  hearing  poetry,  for 
which  he  had  no  taste."  But,  surely,  surprise  need  hardly 
have  been  evinced,  since,  as  has  been  shrewdly  remarked, 
if  the  King  had  had  a  taste  for  poetry,  he  would  have 
abolished  the  Laureate  odes  altogether. 

But,  however  that  may  be.  Whitehead  willingly 
engaged  to  furnish  punctually  the  usual  adulatory  verse, 
as  his  predecessors  had  done.  Mason  advised  him  to 
employ  a  deputy   to  write   the   annual    odes,   and    to 


170  THE   POETS   LAUREATE. 

conserve  his  own  powers  so  that  he  might  be  able  to  do 
justice  to  great  national  events.  Whitehead,  however, 
did  not  take  Mason's  advice,  perhaps  because  he  liked 
the  work,  but  more  probably  because  he  did  not  relish 
the  idea  of  his  salary  being  whittled  away  in  remunerating 
a  deputy. 

William  Whitehead,  whom  Johnson  sententiously 
described  as  a  writer  of  "  grand  nonsense,"  was  a  Cam- 
bridge man  by  birth,  training,  and  education.  He  was 
born  in  1715.  His  father  was  a  baker,  but  seems  to 
have  been  a  thriftless  and  unbusinesslike  person.  He 
spent  most  of  his  time  not  in  baking  bread,  but  in 
beautifying  some  land  which  he  owned  near  Grand- 
chester,  and  which  for  long  was  known  as  Whitehead's 
Folly.  He  had  the  sense,  however,  to  give  his  two  sons 
a  liberal  education,  and,  shortly  before  his  death,  he  had 
the  gratification  of  learning  that  his  son  William,  aged 
fourteen,  had  obtained  a  nomination  to  Winchester 
College,  at  the  time  "  when  Bigg  presided  and  when 
Burton  taught." 

As  a  schoolboy,  Mason  says  he  was  delicate,  and  spent 
much  of  his  time  in  reading  plays  and  poetry.  He  was 
particularly  fond  of  the  Atlantis,  and  took  part  in  private 
theatricals,  acting  a  female  character  in  the  Andria  of 
Terence,  and  personating  Marcia  in  Cato.  In  1733  he  had 
the  good  fortune  to  come  under  the  notice  of  Pope,  who 
visited  the  College  in  the  company  of  his  friend,  the 
famous  Earl  of  Peterborough.  The  latter  offered  guinea 
prizes  for  the  best  poem  on  a  subject  to  be  selected  by 
Pope,  who  chose  the  martial  achievements  of  his  friend. 
Whitehead  gained  one  of  the  prizes,  and  so  pleased  was 
Pope  with  the  way  in  which  he  had  acquitted  himself, 
that  he  set  him  to  translate  the  first  part  of  the  Essay 
on  Man  into  Latin.  This  performance,  however,  was 
never  published. 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  171 

In  1735,  by  means  of  a  small  scholarship  open  to  the 
orphan  sons  of  tradesmen  of  Cambridge,  he  became  a 
sizar  at  Clare  Hall.  Here  his  amiable  disposition,  his 
refined  manners,  and  his  poetical  talent  won  him  the  friend- 
ship of  several  young  men  of  rank  and  fortune,  among 
them  being  Charles  Townsend,  surnamed  the  "  Weather- 
cock," whom  Burke  described  as  "  the  delight  and  orna- 
ment of  the  House  of  Commons."  Whitehead,  as  will 
be  shown  presently,  passed  much  of  his  life  in  the  com- 
pany of  titled  persons.  But  there  was  no  toadyism 
about  him.  If  he  hobnobbed  with  noble  lords,  he  did 
so  on  his  own  terms,  and  not  on  theirs. 

At  Cambridge  he  was  a  diligent,  if  not  a  brilliant, 
student,  taking  his  B.A.  and  M.A.  degrees  like  the  rest^ 
and  eventually  being  elected  a  fellow  of  his  College. 
What  time  he  could  spare  from  his  studies,  he  bestowed 
on  poetical  composition,  and  before  he  had  completed 
his  university  career,  he  had  come  before  the  public  as 
a  writer  of  verse. 

Pope  became  his  model  at  a  time  when  the  influence 
of  the  Artificial  school  of  English  poetry  was  waning, 
and  there  was  rising  up  a  new  school  bent  on  making 
poetry  beautiful  as  well  as  correct — a  poetry  that  should 
glow  with  natural  feeling,  and  be  responsive  to  the 
glories  of  earth  and  sea  and  sky.  It  was,  therefore, 
fitting  that  the  first  poem  by  Whitehead  to  attract 
attention.  On  the  Danger  of  Writing  in  Verse  (1741), 
should  receive  warm  commendation  from  representatives 
of  the  Critical  school.  "  One  of  the  most  happy  imita- 
tions extant  of  Pope's  preceptive  manner "  was  the 
verdict  of  the  generous  Mason.  All  that  modern  criti- 
cism, however,  will  allow  is  that  it  is  carefully  written, 
and  contains  some  sonorous  lines.  Another  poem.  On 
Friendship,  was  adversely  criticised  by  Gray,  who  sug- 
gested   that    it    might    more    appropriately    have    been 


172  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

designated,  A  Satire  on  Friendship.  Mason,  who  con- 
sidered the  poem  one  of  his  friend's  most  finished  com- 
positions, repeated  Gray's  criticism  to  Whitehead,  who 
thereupon  modified  some  of  the  passages,  and  made  a 
considerable  addition  to  the  concluding  part. 

Among  Whitehead's  other  early  pieces,  all  of  which 
are  in  the  heroic  couplet,  are  An  '  heroic  epistle  '  from 
Anne  Boleyn  to  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  a  didactic  essay 
on  Ridicule  (1743),  the  latter  the  result,  says  Mason,  of 
great  pains,  the  poet's  candour  leading  him  "  to  admit 
the  use  of  this  excellent  though  frequently  misdirected 
weapon  of  the  mind  with  more  restrictions  than,  perhaps, 
any  person  will  submit  to,  who  has  the  power  of 
employing  it  successfully." 

His  student  days  over.  Whitehead  thought  of  taking 
holy  orders  in  the  hope  of  retaining  his  Fellowship  rather 
than  because  he  felt  any  impulse  towards  the  ministry. 
The  truth  is,  he  had  a  very  unclerical  mind.  His  notion 
of  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  a  parson  was 
assuredly  unconventional,  as  would  appear  from  the 
following  lines — 

Whether  in  wide-spread  scarf  and  rusthng  gown, 
My  borrow'd  Rhetoric  soothes  the  saints  in  Town, 
Or  makes  in  country  pews  soft  matrons  weep. 
Gay  damsels  smile,  and  tir'd  Churchwardens  sleep. 

Happily,  he  was  saved  from  a  vocation  for  which  he  was 
obviously  unlit,  by  becoming,  in  1745,  tutor  to  the  Earl 
of  Jersey's  surviving  son,  Viscount  Vilhers.  This  proved 
a  turning-point  in  his  career,  for  with  the  fortunes  of 
this  noble  family  he  was  more  or  less  intimately  con- 
nected during  the  rest  of  his  life.  Lord  Jersey  became 
his  patron,  and  under  his  roof  he  resided  continuously 
for  fourteen  years.  It  was  mainly  through  the  influence 
of  the  Jersey  family  that  he  was  appointed  Secretary 
and  Registrar  of  the  Order  of  the  Bath,  and  subsequently 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  173 

Poet  Laureate.  Whitehead  seems  from  all  accounts  to 
have  been  a  competent  tutor.  At  all  events,  Viscount 
ViUiers,  when  he  succeeded  to  his  father's  title,  was 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  accomplished  and  high-bred 
men  of  the  day. 

Whitehead  now  settled  in  London,  where,  in  addition 
to  tutoring,  he  devoted  himself  whole-heartedly  to  writing 
for  the  stage.  His  first  effort,  a  little  farce,  was  a  dismal 
failure.  He  next  turned  his  attention  to  tragedy,  and 
in  1750  Garrick,  to  whom  he  had  sent  an  adulatory  poem, 
brought  out  The  Roman  Father  at  Drury  Lane.  The 
piece  was  little  more  than  an  adaptation  of  Corneille's 
Horace,  founded  on  the  story  of  the  Horatii,  the  three 
brothers  chosen  by  King  Tullus  Hostilius  to  fight  for 
Rome  against  the  three  Curiatii  of  Alba  Longa.  Despite 
its  classical  atmosphere,  the  tragedy  was  fairly  successful, 
though  this  was  probably  due  to  Garrick's  acting,  for 
the  dramatic  and  literary  qualities  of  The  Roman  Father 
are  of  the  slightest. 

A  much  more  creditable  performance,  both  in  style 
and  execution,  is  his  version  of  the  Ion  of  Euripides, 
which  was  produced  in  1754  under  the  title  of  Creusa, 
Queen  of  Athens.  Horace  Walpole  and  the  kind-hearted 
Mason  were  enthusiastic  about  this  tragedy,  but  White- 
head lessened  its  poetic  charm  considerably  by  the  omis- 
sion of  the  supernatural  element.  In  1762  there  was 
produced  at  Drury  Lane,  The  School  for  Lovers,  a  comedy 
which,  if  it  did  not  take  the  town  by  storm,  was  well 
received,  though  Gray  characterised  it  as  "  very  mid- 
dling." ^  It  was  revived  in  1775,  and  again  in  1794. 
Garrick  was  so  favourably  impressed,  that  he  appointed 
the  author  his  "  reader  "  of  plays,  in  which  capacity 
Whitehead  sat  in  judgment  on  Goldsmith's  Good-natured 
Man.      In    1770    he    ended    his    dramatic     career,     as 

1   Works,  ed.  Gosse,  iii,   128. 


174  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

ignominiously  as  it  had  begun,  with  what  he  called  a 
"  little  whimsical  trifle,"  which  Garrick  accepted  only 
on  condition  that  the  author's  name  was  not  revealed. 
This  was  the  Trip  to  Scotland,  which  turns  on  the  story 
of  a  runaway  match  ;  but  the  humour  is  so  coarse,  the 
dialogue  so  inane,  and  the  construction  so  poor,  that  the 
piece  fairly  responds  to  the  author's  own  description. 

But  while  making  a  bold  bid  for  popularity  in  the 
theatrical  world.  Whitehead  was  not  neglectful  of  the 
Muses.  Poem  after  poem  came  from  his  pen,  and  proved 
that  though  wofully  deficient  in  imagination,  he  could 
handle  various  metres  with  a  certain  amount  of  skill. 
The  Sweepers,  a  blank  verse  poem,  is  dull,  insipid,  and 
absurd  ;  but  the  series  of  tales  which  Whitehead  executed 
after  the  manner  of  the  Contes  of  La  Fontaine,  are  not 
wholly  devoid  of  merit.  Regarding  one  of  these,  bearing 
the  uninformative  title,  Variety  :  A  Tale  for  Married 
People,  Mr.  Birrell  remarks  that  "  it  really  is  not  very, 
very  bad  "  ;  but  he  adds,  alluding  to  the  fact  that 
Campbell  had  the  courage  to  reprint  it,  "it  will  never 
be  reprinted  again."  ^  Mr.  T.  H.  Ward  is  much  more 
favourably  inclined,  characterising  the  piece  as  an  excel- 
lent story  in  verse,  told  in  a  light  and  flowing  style  not 
unworthy  of  Gay.  ^ 

The  moral  of  my  tale  is  this 
Variety's  the  soul  of  bliss. 

In   another   tale,    entitled    The   Goat's   Beard    [Xlll), 

Whitehead  takes  as  his  text  eight  lines  from  Phaedrus, 

which  relate  that  when  the  she  goats  had  obtained  from 

Jupiter  the  privilege  of  having  beards  as  well  as  the 

males,  the  he  goats  complained  bitterly  that  the  god 

had    degraded    them    by    admitting    females    to    equal 

honours    with    themselves.     Jupiter    sensibly    answered 

that  if  the  he  goats  "  would  take  care  to  preserve  the 

1  Men,   Women  and  Books. 
^  English  Poets,  lii,  337. 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  175 

real  and  essential  advantages  which  their  sex  gave  them 
over  the  other,  they  would  have  no  reason  to  be  dis- 
satisfied with  letting  the  she  goats  participate  in  what 
was  merely  ornamental."  In  a  poem  of  about  800  lines, 
\\'Tiitehead  plays  merrily  round  the  theme  of  the  equality 
of  the  sexes,  and  comes  to  the  conclusion — 

Sexes  are  proper,   and  not  comtnon  ; 
Man  must  be  man,   and  woman  woman. 

The  Goat's  Beard,  which  has  surely  an  obvious  lesson  for 
the  present  day,  gave  rise  to  a  phiHppic,  entitled.  Asses' 
Ears  :  A  Fable,  in  which  the  Laureateship  is  denied  to 
a  poetical  genius,  but  is  considered  good  enough  for  a 
Shadwell,  a  Cibber,  or  a  Wliitehead. 

From  the  summer  of  1754  till  the  autumn  of  1756, 
Whitehead  was  leading  a  gay  life  on  the  Continent  in 
the  company  of  Lord  Villiers  (to  whom  he  still  acted  as 
preceptor)  and  Lord  Nuneham,  the  eldest  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Harcourt.  The  trio,  after  a  lengthened  stay  in 
Leipzig,  wandered  leisurely  through  Germany  and  Italy. 
In  the  latter  country,  the  poet  saw  much  that  appealed 
to  his  classical  mind,  but  he  pays  his  poetical  tribute  to 
such  objects  of  interest  as  the  mausoleum  of  Augustus 
in  the  feeblest  of  elegies. 

In  the  year  following  his  return,  Cibber  died,  and 
Whitehead  found  himself  more  by  grace  than  by  merit, 
as  Churchill  said.  Poet  Laureate.  The  post  may  have 
been  personally  unsolicited,  but  it  is  difficult  to  believe, 
as  indicated  in  the  following  lines,  that  he  was  ignorant 
of  the  fact  that  he  owed  it  to  the  good  offices  of  the 
Jerseys. 

The  following  fact  is  true 
From  nobler  names,  and  great  in  each  degree, 
The  pension'd  laurel  has  devolved  to  me. 
To  me,  ye  bards  ;  and  what  you'll  scarce  conceive, 
Or,  at  the  best,  unwillingly  believe, 
Howe'er  unworthily  I  wear  the  crown, 
Unask'd  it  came,  and  from  a  hand  unknown. 


176  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Whitehead  discharged  the  duties  of  the  Laureateship 
with  dull  and  mechanical  precision  during  twenty-eight 
years.  He  composed  some  fifty  New  Year  and  Birth- 
day odes,  the  very  sight  of  which  made  Johnson  angry, 
and  caused  Churchill  to  blaspheme.  And  when  a  royal 
baptism  or  marriage  or  a  national  crisis  demanded 
poetical  commemoration,  Whitehead  was  always  ready 
with  an  effusion  which  did  justice  to  his  heart  rather 
than  to  his  poetic  sensibility.  But  if  his  odes  too  often 
degenerated  into  bombast,  they  were  rarely  obsequious. 
In  this  respect.  Whitehead  showed  a  decided  improvement 
on  some  of  his  predecessors. 

His  first  Birthday  ode  actually  won  the  praise  of  Gray, 
while  Gibbon  regarded  it  as  belonging  to  the  long  list  of 
"  annual  odes  which  still  adorn  or  disgrace  the  birthdays 
of  our  British  Kings."  The  great  historian  was  annoyed 
because  of  the  Laureate's  inaccuracy  in  tracing  the 
lineage  of  the  House  of  Brunswick.  Gibbon  admitted 
that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  poetic  licence,  but  he 
maintained  that  every  deviation  from  truth  "  ought  to 
be  compensated  by  the  superior  beauties  of  fancy  and 
fiction."     The  last  stanza  of  the  ode  is  as  follows — 

But  now  each  Briton's  glowing  tongue 
Proclaims  the  truths  the  Genius  sung, 
On  Brunswick's  name  with  rapture  dwells, 
And,  hark  !  the  general  chorus  swells  : 
May  years  on  liappy  years  roll  o'er, 

Till  glory  close  the  shining  page, 
And  our  ill-fated  sons  deplore 

The  shortness  of  a  Nestor's  age  ! 
Hail,  all  hail  !    on  Albion's  plains 
The  friend  of  man  and   freedom  reigns  ! 
Echo,  waft  the  triumph  round, 
Till  Gallia's  utmost  shores  rebound, 
And  all  her  bulwarks  tremble  at  the  sound. 

In  1758  Whitehead  composed  his  Verses  to  the  People 
of  England,  which  Byrom,  the  Lancashire  poet,  coupled 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  177 

with  Akenside's  Appeal  to  the  Country  Gentlemen  of 
England,  as  a  typical  specimen  of  Hanoverian  jingoism. 
In  the  following  passage,  "  Sweet  Liberty "  is 
apostrophized  as  the  "  goddess  of  Britannia's  isle  " — 

O  deign  to  smile. 
Goddess  of  Britannia's  isle  ! 
Thou,  that  from  her  rocks  survey'st 
Her  boundless  realms,  the  watry  waste  ; 
Thou,  that  rov'st  the  hill  and  mead. 
Where  her  flocks  and  heifers  feed  ; 
Thou  that  cheer'st  th'  industrious  swain. 
While  he  strows  the  pregnant  grain  ; 
Thou,  that  hear'st  his  caroU'd  vows 
\Vhen  th'  expanded  barn  o'erflows  ; 
Thou,  the  bulwark  of  our  cause, 
Thou,  the  guardian  of  our  laws. 
Sweet  Liberty  ! — O  deign  to  smile. 
Goddess  of  Britannia's  isle  ! 

Perhaps  the  most  outstanding  incident  of  Whitehead's 
Laureateship  was  the  accession  of  George  III,  which  he 
commemorated  in  his  best  manner  in  the  New  Year  ode 
for  1761.  After  some  florid  passages  about  the  victories 
of  our  arms  in  Canada,  the  poem  thus  moves  bombastically 
to  a  close — 

And  who  is  he,  of  regal  mien, 
Reclin'd  on  Albion's  golden  fleece, 
\^Tlose  polish'd  brow,  and  eye  serene 
Proclaim  him  elder-born  of  peace  ? 
Another  George  ! — ye  winds,  convey 
Th'  auspicious  name  from  pole  to  pole  I 
Thames,  catch  the  sound,  and  tell  the  subject  sea 

Beneath  whose  sway  its  waters  roll. 
The  hoary  Monarch  of  the  deep. 

Who  sooth'd  its  murmurs  with  a  father's  care. 
Doth  now  eternal  sabbath  keep. 

And  leaves  his  trident  to  his  blooming  heir. 
O,  if  the  Muse  aright  divine. 

Fair  Peace  shall  bless  his  opening  reign, 
And  through  its  splendid  progress  shine. 

With  every  art  to  grace  her  train. 

13— (i34i) 


178  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

The  wreaths,  so  late  by  glory  won, 
Shall  weave  their  foliage  round  his  throne, 
Till  kings,  abash'd,  shall  tremble  to  be  foes. 
And  Albion's  dreaded  strength  secure  the  world's  repose. 

Whitehead  was  of  the  same  mind  as  Milton  that 

Peace  hath   her  victories 
No   less  renowned   than  war  ; 

and  it  is  specially  noteworthy  that  he  had  a  genuine 
desire  for  the  amity  of  nations  at  a  time  when  a  bellicose 
spirit  was  not  only  rampant,  but  when  "  Albion's 
dreaded  strength "  was  being  dissipated  on  many  a 
battlefield.  In  the  New  Year  ode  for  1777,  after 
alluding  to  "  imperial  Winter's  sway  "  suspending  "  the 
rage  of  war,"  he  expresses  the  wish — 

O  may  it  ne'er  revive  I — Ye  wise, 
Ye  just,  ye  virtuous,  and  ye  brave. 

Leave  fell  contention  to  the  sons  of  vice,   ' 
And  join  your  powers  to  save  ! 

"  Is  Peace  a  blessing  ?  "  he  inquires  in  the  Birthday 
ode  for  1783, 

Ask  the  mind 
That  glows  with  love  of  human  kind. 

That  knows  no  guile,  no  partial  weakness  knows. 
Contracted  to  no  narrow  sphere. 
The  world,  the  world  at  large  is  umpire  here  ; 

They  feel,  and  they  enjoy,  the  blessings  peace  bestows. 

The  Laureate  loved  peace,  but  not  peace  at  any  price. 
When  France  made  a  bold  bid  for  naval  supremacy,  he 
tuned  the  patriotic  lyre  in  his  own  clumsy  fashion.  The 
following  lines  are  taken  from  the  New  Year  ode  of  1780 — 

And  dares  insulting  France  pretend 

To  grasp  the  trident  of  the  main. 
And  hope  the  astonish'd  world  should  bend 

To  the  mock  pageantry  assum'd  in  vain  ? 
^^'^^at,  though  her  fleet  the  billows  load, 

What,   though  her  mimic  thunders  roar. 
She  bears  the  ensigns  of  the  god. 

But  not  his  delegated  power. 
Ev'n  from  the  birth  of  time  't  was  Heaven's  decree, 
The  queen  of  isles  should  reign  sole  empress  of  the  sea. 


WILLIAM  WHITEHEAD  179 

Mr.  T.  H.  Ward,  while  dismissing  Whitehead's  poetry 
as  for  the  most  part  tame  and  conventional,  asserts  that 
he  occasionally  emerges  from  the  ruck  of  Georgian 
poetasters  and  becomes  noticeable.  ^  As  an  instance  of 
this,  he  quotes  The  Enthusiast,  a  poem  in  which  White- 
head comes  nearer  to  true  poetic  feeling  than  in  any 
poem  he  ever  wrote.     Here  are  a  few  stanzas — 

These,  these  are  joys  alone,  I  cry, 
'Tis  here,  divine  Philosophy, 

Thou  deign'st  to  fix  thy  throne  ! 
Here  contemplation  points  the  road 
Through  Nature's  charms  to  Nature's  God  ! 

These,  these  are  joys  alone  1 

The  same  Almighty  Power  unseen, 
\Vho  spreads  the  gay  or  solemn  scene 

To  contemplation's  eye, 
Fix'd  every  movement  of  the  soul, 
Taught  every  wish  its  destin'd  goal, 

And  quicken'd  every  joy. 

*  •  •  • 

Art  thou  not  man,  and  dar'st  thou  find 
A  bliss  which  leans  not  to  mankind  ? 

Presumptuous  thought,  and  vain  ! 
Each  bhss  unshar'd  is  unenjoy'd. 
Each  power  is  weak  unless  employ 'd 

Some  social  good  to  gain. 

Enthusiast,  go,  try  every  sense. 
If  not  thy  bliss,  thy  excellence. 

Thou  yet  hast  learn 'd  to  scan  ; 
At  least  thy  wants,  thy  weakness  know. 
And  see  them  all  uniting  show 

That  man  was  made  for  man. 

Sometimes,  too,  the  Laureate  could  be  bright  and  lively, 
though  Churchill  was  wont  to  hail  him  as  "  Dullness  and 
Method's  darling  son."  Take,  for  example,  his  playful 
reprimand  to  the  ladies  who  appeared  at  the  Ranelagh 
masquerades  in  male  attire. 

1  English  Poets,  iii,  337. 


180  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Ye  belles,  and  ye  flirts,  and  ye  pert  little  things. 

Who  trip  in  this  frolicsome  round. 
Pray  tell  me  from  whence  this  impertinence  springs. 

The  sexes  at  once  to  confound  ? 
What  means  the  cock'd  hat  and  the  masculine  air, 

With  each  motion  design 'd  to  perplex  ? 
Bright  eyes  were  intended  to  languish,  not  stare, 

And  softness  the  test  of  your  sex. 

Whitehead,  like  his  predecessors  in  the  Laureateship, 
was  the  victim  of  many  venomous  attacks.  No  doubt 
personal  animosity  was  at  the  bottom  of  most  of  those 
feuds  ;  but,  when  all  is  said,  there  is  no  rebutting  the 
contention  that  Whitehead's  odes  were  most  exasper- 
ating. Clearly,  then,  it  was  not  for  him  to  assume 
pontifical  airs  and  lecture  his  brother  bards  on  the 
essentials  of  true  poetry,  even  although  his  manner  was 
kindly  and  his  motives  above  suspicion.  But  this  was 
precisely  what  he  attempted  to  do  in  A  Charge  to  the 
Poets  (1762).  Gray,  however,  was  pleased  with  the  piece, 
"  chiefly  with  the  sense  and  sometimes  with  the  verse  and 
expression," '  while  Coleridge,  in  Biographia  Liter  aria, 
characterises  it  as  "  perhaps  the  best,  and  certainly  the 
most  interesting,  of  his  works." 

Then,  since  my  king  and  patron  have  thought  fit 
To  place  me  on  the  throne  of  modern  wit. 
My  grave  advice,  my  brethren,  hear  at  large  ; 
As  bishops  to  their  clergy  give  their  charge. 

By  none  was  such  presumption  more  keenly  resented 
than  by  Churchill,  who  was  then  rising  into  fame  as  a 
satirist,  and  had  set  the  whole  town  agog  by  the  appear- 
ance of  his  Rosciad  (1761).  Campbell  declared  that 
Churchill  "  completely  killed  Whitehead's  poetical  repu- 
tation," but  this  assuredly  was  no  herculean  perform- 
ance. What  he  really  did  was  to  assail  the  Laureate 
with  the  same  truculence  (but  with  much  less  satirical 
power)  as  Pope  attacked  Cibber.     In  The  Ghost  (1762), 

'   Works,  ed.  Gosse,  iii,   128. 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  181 

a  poem  of  egregious  length  and  dullness,  Churchill  refers 
to  the  difficulty  of  making  the  Laureate  odes  "  go  down," 
and  identifies  their  author  with  Dullness  and  Method. 

Come,  Method,  come  in  all  thy  pride, 
Dullness   and   Whitehead   by  thy  side. 
Dullness  and  Method  still  are  one. 
And  Whitehead  is  their  darling  son. 

But  He,  who  in  the  Laureat  chair, 
By  Grace,  not  Merit,  planted  there  ; 
In  awkward  pomp  is  seen  to  sit. 
And  by  his  Patent  prove  his  wit. 

In  The  Pyophecy  of  Famine  (1763),  usually  considered  his 
best  satire,  Churchill  thus  alludes  to  the  Laureate — 

Folly's   chief   friend.    Decorum's   eldest   son. 
In  ev'ry  party  found,  and  yet  of  none, 

while  in  Gotham,  he  refers  pathetically  to 

The  laurel  worn 
By  poets  in  old  time,  but  destin'd  now. 
In  grief,  to  wither  on  a  Whitehead's  brow. 

Whitehead,  doing  homage  to  his  own  couplet, 

In  writing,  as  in  life,  he  foils  the  foe, 

Who,  conscious  of  his  strength,  forgives  the  blow, 

did  not  deign  to  reply  to  Churchill,  at  least  in  a  formal 
poetical  epistle,  but  wrote  a  few  scarifying  lines. 

So  from  his  common-place,  where  Churchill  strings 

Into  some  motley  form  his  d good  things  ; 

The  purple  patches  everywhere  prevail. 
But  the  poor  work  has  neither  head  nor  tail. 

Elsewhere,  he  banters  Churchill  in  grand  style — 

I,  though  older  far,  have  liv'd  to  see 
Churchill  forgot,   an  empty  shade  hke  me. 

As  a  rule,  Whitehead's  sarcasms  are  good-natured — 

That  I'm  his  foe,  ev'n  Churchill  can't  pretend. 
But — thank  my  stars — he  proves  I  am  no  friend  : 
Yet,  Churchill,  could  an  honest  wish  succeed, 
I'd  prove  myself  to  thee  a  friend  indeed. 


182  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

That  Whitehead  was  not  unmindful  of  the  drudgery  of 
having  to  compose  two  odes  yearly  on  threadbare  themes, 
is  plainly  shown  in  his  Pathetic  Apology  for  all  Laureates, 
past,  present,  and  to  come,  in  which,  with  sprightly 
humour,  he  dilates  upon  the  hard  lot  of  a  Poet  Laureate 
under  Hanoverian  rule. 

His  Muse,  obliged  by  sack  and  pension. 
Without  a  subject,  or  invention — 
Must  certain  words  in  order  set. 
As  innocent  as  a  Gazette  ; 
Must   some   half-meaning   half   disguise, 
And  utter  neither  truth  nor  Ues. 
But  why  will  you,  ye  volunteers 
In  nonsense,  tease  us  with  your  jeers, 
Who  might  with  dullness  and  her  crew 
Securely  slumber  ?     Why  will  you 
Sport  your  dim  orbs  amidst  her  fogs  ? 
You're  not  oblig'd — ye  silly  dogs  ! 

Toil  and  tribulation  and  conflict  are  not  congenial 
companions,  especially  where  the  Muses  are  concerned, 
but  they  persistently  dogged  the  steps  of  most  of  the 
earlier  Laureates.  Whitehead's  life,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  singularly  uneventful,  and  hopelessly  uninteresting. 
When  we  think  of  him,  we  think  not  of  a  man  meeting 
with  unflinching  courage  and  endurance  the  buffetings 
of  a  scornful  and  perverse  world,  but  of  an  indolent 
versifier  lolling  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the  great,  and 
composing  two  odes  yearly  simply  to  earn  his  pension 
and  sack  as  Poet  Laureate. 

Though  it  does  not  appear  that  Whitehead  was  a 
sycophant,  it  is  obvious  that  he  dearly  loved  a  lord. 
Much  of  what  he  wrote  shows  a  strong  aristocratic  bias, 
and  it  was  probably  this  feature  Gray  had  in  mind  when 
he  remarked  to  Mason  that  he  "  would  rather  steal  the 
Laureate's  verses  than  his  sentiments."^  For  many 
years  he  was  the  intimate  friend  and  confidant  of  Lords 

'   Works,  ed.  Gosse,  iii,  138. 


WILLIAM   WHITEHEAD  183 

Jersey  and  Harcourt,  residing  with  them  for  long  periods, 
and  being  constantly  consulted  regarding  aU  manner  of 
projects.  Such  a  degree  of  intimacy  reveals  that  he  was 
no  menial  or  dependent,  but  rather  that  he  possessed 
qualities  of  character  and  culture  which  readily  accorded 
with  the  tastes  and  sympathies  of  men  of  exalted  rank 
and  breeding.  Though  a  plebeian,  he  had  the  polish,  and 
grace,  and  instincts  of  an  aristocrat.  Blue  blood 
appealed  to  him  not  because  there  was  anything 
priggish  in  his  nature,  but  because  he  had  certain  affinities 
with  it. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  a  drab,  unheroic  existence  which 
Whitehead  led.  Mason  tells  us  that  when  his  patrons, 
the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Jersey,  were  advanced  in 
3^ears,  the  Laureate  "  willingly  devoted  the  principal 
part  of  his  time  "  to  their  amusement.  Could  anything 
be  more  unattractive  than  the  spectacle  of  a  poet 
absorbed  in  helping  a  vacuous  peer  and  peeress  to  pass 
the  time  pleasantly  ?  This  was  accomplished.  Mason 
further  enlightens  us,  by  the  "  unassuming  ease  and 
pleasing  sallies  of  wit  "  with  which  the  bard  enlivened 
his  conversation.  Whitehead  may  have  been  a  lively 
talker,  but  there  is  point  in  BosweU's  remark  that 
"  from  a  man  so  still  and  so  tame,  as  to  be  contented 
to  pass  many  years  as  the  domestic  companion  of  a 
superannuated  lord  and  lady,  conversation  could  no 
more  be  expected,  than  from  a  Chinese  mandarin  on  a 
chimney-place,  or  the  fantastic  figures  on  a  gilt  leather 
screen." 

During  his  later  years.  Whitehead  busied  himself  with 
the  preparation  of  a  collected  edition  of  his  works,  which 
he  published  in  two  volumes,  in  1774,  under  the  title 
of  Plays  and  Poems.  He  also  wrote  a  tragedy  which 
Garrick  declined  lest  he  should  offend  Churchill,  who 
had  then  the  ear  of  the  town.     Whitehead  died  at  his 


184  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

house   in    Charles   Street,    Grosvenor   Square,    in    1785, 
and  was  buried  in  South  Audley  Street  Chapel. 

Even  when  the  Laureate  had  descended  into  the  valley 
of  the  shadow,  his  enemies  were  still  pursuing.  One  of 
them  derisively  assigned  him  the  honour  of  burial  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  and  wrote  the  following  epitaph, 
in  which  the  voice  of  truth  is  by  no  means  tremulous — 

Beneath  this  stone  a  Poet  Laureat  lies, 
Nor  great,  nor  good,  nor  foolish,  nor  yet  wise  ; 
Not  meanly  humble,  nor  yet  swell'd  with  pride. 
He  simply  liv'd — and  just  as  simply  died  : 
Each  year  his  Muse  produced  a  Birth  Day  Ode, 
Compos 'd  with  flattery  in  the  usual  mode  ; 
For  this,  and  but  for  this,  to  George's  praise. 
The  Bard  was  pension'd,  and  receiv'd  the  Bays. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THOMAS   WARTON 

If  an  ardent  love  of  poetry,  a  transcendent  knowledge 
of  its  structure  and  growth,  and  a  quick  and  emotional 
sympathy  with  the  noblest  forms  of  poetic  expression 
could  make  a  man  a  poet,  then  Thomas  Warton,  who 
succeeded  to  the  laurel  on  Whitehead's  death,  should 
have  been  one  of  the  most  commanding.  Warton  knew 
a  very  great  deal  about  versification  in  general,  and 
about  the  history  of  English  poetry  in  particular.  His 
critical  temper  was  excellent,  his  theory  usually  sound, 
his  poetic  temperament  undeniable.  But  one  thing  was 
lacking — the  inspiration  from  above.  "  The  gods,"  as 
*  Christopher  North*  said,  "  had  made  him  poetical,  but 
not  a  poet." 

Nevertheless,  Warton's  influence  on  English  poetry 
dare  not  be  despised.  He  revived  the  sonnet ;  he  drew 
attention,  in  his  monumental  History,  to  the  treasures 
of  mediaeval  and  Elizabethan  poetry  when  they  were 
almost  buried  under  the  artificial  products  of  the  Critical 
and  Didactic  school ;  and,  by  his  love  of  Nature,  he 
heralded  the  dawn  of  the  new  movement  in  English 
poetry.  His  debtors,  as  well  as  admirers,  included 
Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  Charles  Lamb,  and  Hazlitt. 
In  his  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets,  the  latter  pays  his 
tribute  ungrudgingly :  "  Warton  was  a  poet  and  a 
scholar,  studious  with  ease,  learned  without  affectation. 
He  had  a  happiness  which  some  have  been  prouder  of 
than  he,  who  deserved  it  less  ;    he  was  Poet  Laureate — 

And  that  green  wreath  which  decks  the  bard  when  dead. 
That  laurel  garland  crown 'd  his  living  head. 

185 


186  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

And  he  bore  his  honours  meekly,  performed  his  half- 
yearly  task  regularly,  and  was  the  author  of  some  of 
the  finest  sonnets  in  the  language." 

Besides  his  literary  worth,  Warton  had  a  strong  and 
winsome  personality.  His  friends  were  many  and  his 
enemies  few — far  fewer  than  in  the  case  of  any  previous 
Laureate.  His  humour,  his  good  sense,  his  kindliness, 
his  broad  humanity,  even  his  whimsicalities  of  which  he 
had  not  a  few,  made  him  an  interesting  and  genial  friend. 
Indeed,  in  the  matter  of  personal  characteristics,  Warton 
might  not  inaptly  be  described  as  a  miniature  Johnson — 
the  man  whom  he  admired  rather  than  loved. 

Thomas  Warton,  who  was  born  at  Basingstoke  in  1728, 
not  only  came  of  a  literary  family,  but  of  one  closely 
identified  with  the  fortunes  of  English  poetry.  His 
father  (1688-1745),  who  bore  the  same  name  as  himself, 
was  Professor  of  Poetry  at  Oxford,  as  well  as  Vicar  of 
Basingstoke ;  while  his  elder  brother,  Joseph  (1722- 
1800),  published  a  volume  of  poetry  which  marked  a 
reaction  from  Pope,  and,  in  a  two-volume  essay  on  that 
poet,  emphasised  his  sympathies  with  the  new  school 
of  English  poetry.  He  also  published  editions  of 
Dryden  and  Pope,  and  won  the  approval  of  scholars 
by  his  translation  of  the  Eclogues  and  Georgics  of  Virgil. 

Cradled  in  an  atmosphere  of  learning,  and  possessing 
natural  aptitude,  Warton  could  hardly  help  becoming 
a  scholar.  As  a  matter  of  course,  his  father  gave  him 
a  first-class  education,  keeping  him  under  his  own  super- 
vision until  he  was  sixteen,  and  then  sending  him  to 
Trinity  College,  Oxford.  He  graduated  B.A.  in  1747, 
and  M.A.  in  1750.  Having  taken  holy  orders,  he 
became  a  tutor  in  the  College,  then  Fellow,  and  finally, 
in  1767,  he  took  the  B.D.  degree.  The  academic  tran- 
quillity of  Oxford  exactly  suited  a  man  of  Warton's 
scholarly  tastes  ;    and,  though  he  played  many  parts, 


THOMAS     VVARTON 
Atter  the  portrait  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 


THOMAS   WARTON  187 

he  never  allowed  his  friends  to  forget  that  dearer  to  him 
than  all  else  were  the  leisurely  ways  of  a  college  don. 
Warton,  observed  George  Gilfillan,  "  was  the  heau  ideal 
of  an  Oxford  Fellow.  He  was  at  once  lazy  and  studious, 
fond  of  luxury,  and  fond  of  books.  He  spent  a  portion 
of  each  day  reading  and  writing,  and  the  rest  of  it  in 
cracking  jokes  and  perpetrating  puns  in  the  common- 
room."  1  And  there  is  the  testimony  of  Lord  Eldon  as 
to  his  easy-going  habits.  "  Poor  Tom  Warton  !  He 
was  a  tutor  at  Trinity  ;  at  the  beginning  of  every  term 
he  used  to  send  to  his  pupils  to  know  whether  they 
would  wish  to  attend  lecture  that  term."  ^  Then  when 
the  vacation  came  round,  Warton  would  wander  forth 
in  search  of  some  old  Gothic  church,  or  some  hoary  ruin, 
or  some  historic  spot,  for  he  was  an  enthusiastic  antiquary 
and  archaeologist. 

When  the  Parnassian  fervour  ran  in  the  blood,  it  was 
natural  that  Warton  should  be  scribbling  verses  when 
most  boys  are  only  learning  to  form  their  letters.  At 
nine,  he  presented  his  sister  with  a  verse  translation  of 
an  epigram  of  Martial,  and  at  seventeen  he  published 
Five  Pastoral  Eclogues  and  wrote  a  poem,  to  which  he 
gave  the  paradoxical  title  of  The  Pleasures  of  Melancholy. 
Published  anonymously  in  1747,  it  was  simply  a  cento 
of  Milton's  //  Penseroso  and  Conius,  and  Spenser's  Faerie 
Queene,  though  it  afforded  evidence  that  Warton  was 
already  drinking  the  pure  waters  of  English  poesy.  But 
the  poem  which  first  brought  him  into  prominence  was 
The  Triumph  of  I  sis  (1749).  So  much  did  Johnson  admire 
this  work,  that  when  he  first  heard  it  read  he  clapped 
his  hands  until  they  were  sore.  The  origin  of  the  poem 
is  interesting.  Three  years  before,  William  Mason,  who 
was  a  Cambridge  man,  had  inveighed  against  the  rival 

^    British  Poets,  vol.  xx. 

*   Twiss's  Life  of  Eldon,  iii,  302. 


188  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

university  in  a  poem  entitled  I  sis,  in  which  the  river 
nymph  thus  scornfully  upbraids  the  bibulous  students 
of  Oxford — 

Hence  !    frontless  crowds,   that  not  content  to  fright 
The  blushing  Cynthia  from  her  throne  of  Hght, 
Blast  the  fair  face  of  day  ;  and,  madly  bold, 
To  Freedom's  foes  infernal  orgies  hold. 

Mason  also  traduces  Oxford  dons  because  of  their 
Jacobite  sympathies.  Warton  was  asked  to  write  a 
poetical  reply,  which  he  did.  After  a  sneer  at  "  the 
venal  sons  of  slavish  Cam,"  he  enters  a  dignified  defence 
of  his  university,  recounts  some  of  the  great  names  that 
adorn  her  annals,  and  bestows  an  encomium  on  her 
reputed  founder.  King  Alfred.  He  endeavours,  too,  to 
bring  out  the  old-world  charm  of  Oxford,  and  expatiates 
enthusiastically  on  its  architectural  treasures,  especially 
the  Gothic,  of  which  he  was  passionately  fond.  Here  is 
an  extract  from  The  Triumph  of  Isis,  a  poem  which 
Mason  had  the  grace  to  admit  was  better  than  his  own — 

Ye  fretted  pinnacles,   ye  fanes  sublime. 

Ye  towers  that  wear  the  mossy  vest  of  Time  ; 

Ye  massy  piles  of  old  munificence, 

At  once  the  pride  of  learning  and  defence  ; 

Ye  cloisters  pale,  that  lengthening  to  the  sight 

To  contemplation,   step  by  step,   invite  ; 

Ye  high-arch'd  walks,  where  oft  the  whispers  clear, 

Of  harps  unseen  have  swept  the  poet's  ear  ; 

Ye  temples  dim,  where  pious  duty  pays 

Her  holy  hymns  of  ever-echoing  praise  ; 

Lo  !    your  lov'd  Isis,  from  the  bordering  vale. 

With  all  a  mother's  fondness  bids  you  hail  ! 

Hail,  Oxford  hail  !    of  all  that's  good  and  great, 

Of  all  that's  fair,  the  guardian  and  the  seat : 

Nurse  of  each  brave  pursuit,  each  generous  aim. 

By  truth  exalted  to  the  throne  of  fame  ! 

No  wonder  that  Warton  was  for  two  years  in  succession 
Poet  Laureate  to  the  common-room  of  his  College.  One 
of  the  duties  of  this  office  was  to  celebrate  in  English 


THOMAS   WARTON  189 

verse  the  lady  patroness,  who  was  also  annually  elected. 
The  installation  of  the  academic  Laureate  was  an 
interesting  ceremony,  being  really  a  revival  of  an  ancient 
custom  which  recalled  the  name  of  John  Skelton,  the 
most  prominent  of  the  university  Laureates  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  On  the  appointed  day,  the  members  of  the 
common-room  assembled,  and  the  Poet  Laureate,  after 
being  crowned  with  a  wreath  of  laurel,  recited  his  verses. 
Warton's,  which  are  still  preserved,  are  written  in  an 
elegant  and  flowing  style. 

Warton  fully  surrendered  to  the  glamour  of  Oxford. 
Its  age-worn  colleges,  its  quaint  streets,  the  shadowed 
peace  of  its  old  gardens,  its  wealth  of  historic  and 
iterary  associations — all  these  were  a  perpetual  delight 
and  inspiration.  If  Warton  was  not  the  first  to  feel  the 
fascination  of  Oxford,  he  was  at  all  events  one  of  the 
first  to  proclaim  it  to  the  outer  world.  It  was,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  theme  of  his  first  notable  poem,  and  much 
of  what  he  wrote  in  later  years  centred  in  the  dear  old 
city.  In  1760  he  published  anonymously  a  mild  satire 
on  the  unsatisfactoriness  of  the  existing  guide  books  to 
Oxford.  He  also  wrote  biographies  of  Sir  Thomas  Pope, 
the  founder  of  Trinity  College,  and  of  Ralph  Bathurst, 
one  of  its  presidents  ;  and  he  compiled  an  anthology  of 
Oxford  wit,  entitled.  The  Oxford  Sausage ;  or,  "  Select 
Poetical  Pieces  written  by  the  most  celebrated  Wits  of 
the  University  of  Oxford  "  (1764). 

In  1754  Warton  gave  to  the  world  his  Observations  on 
the  Faery  Queene  of  Spenser,  which  proclaimed  that  a 
literary  critic  of  much  insight  and  spacious  learning  had 
arisen.  The  author  was  only  twenty-six,  but  he  con- 
clusively proved  that  he  had  a  first-hand  knowledge  of 
the  sources  of  English  literature,  and  was  fully  alive  to 
the  immense  value  of  the  literary  legacy  of  the  Eliza- 
bethans.      It   was  in   the   eyes  of   many  of   Warton's 


190  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

contemporaries  an  unwelcome  discovery.  To  be  told 
that  the  age  of  Spenser  and  Sidney  and  Shakespeare  was 
"  the  most  poetical  of  our  annals,"  seemed  the  most 
outrageous  heresy  to  those  who  had  been  taught  to 
regard  the  writings  of  Pope  and  his  school  as  the  acme 
of  poetic  expression.  To  this  class  belonged  William 
Huggins,  the  translator  of  Ariosto,  who  made  a  violent 
attack  on  Warton's  Spenserian  views  in  a  publication 
called  The  Observer  Observed.  Johnson  was  keenly 
interested  in  the  controversy  that  ensued,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  Huggins  had  "  ball  without  powder, 
and  Warton  powder  without  ball."  ^ 

But  Johnson  was  appreciative.  "  You  have  shown," 
he  wrote  the  author  on  16th  July,  1754,  "to  all  who 
shall  hereafter  attempt  the  study  of  our  ancient  authors 
the  way  to  success  ;  by  directing  them  to  the  perusal  of 
the  books  which  those  authors  had  read."^  Thus  was 
begun  a  friendship  between  Johnson  and  Warton  which, 
although  at  times  subjected  to  a  severe  strain,  lasted 
vmtil  the  former's  death  in  1784. 

Johnson  encouraged  the  Oxford  scholar  to  continue 
his  studies  of  early  English  literature  ;  and  in  the  year 
following  the  publication  of  the  Observations,  he  offered 
Warton  personal  help.  "  Let  not  the  past  labour,"  he 
adds,  "  be  lost  for  want  of  a  little  more  ;  but  snatch 
what  time  you  can  from  the  Hall,  and  the  pupils,  and 
the  coffee-house,  and  the  parks,  and  complete  your 
design."  ^ 

The  lexicographer  was  always  friendly  with  Warton, 
and  introduced  him  to  his  friends  as  a  man  of  worth 
and  learning.  Warton,  on  the  other  hand,  entertained 
Johnson  at  Oxford  ;  obtained  for  him  the  M.A.  degree  ; 
contributed   notes   to,   and   sought   subscribers   for,   his 

1  Boswell's  Johnson,  ed.  Hill,  iv,  7. 
«  Ibid.,  i,  270. 
«  Ibid.,  i,  279. 


THOMAS   WARTON  191 

Shakespeare ;  and  wrote  three  papers  for  the  Idler. 
But  notwithstanding  this  reciprocal  attachment,  their 
sympathies  were,  perhaps,  more  apparent  than  real. 
Johnson,  when  in  a  captious  mood,  would  say  of  Wart  on 
that  he  was  the  only  man  of  genius  known  to  him  who 
had  no  heart.  He  also  ridiculed  his  verse  because  of 
its  archaisms,  as  appears  from  the  following  epigram — 

Wheresoe'er  I  turn  my  view, 
All  is  strange,  yet  nothing  new  ; 
Endless  labour  all  along, 
Endless  labour  to  be  wrong  ; 
Phrase  that  time  has  flung  away ; 
Uncouth  words  in  disarray, 
Trick'd  in  antique  ruff  and  bonnet, 
Ode,  and  elegy,   and  sonnet.  ^ 

Wart  on,  again,  had  rather  a  poor  opinion  of  Johnson  as 
a  man  of  literary  taste,  and  as  a  classical  scholar.  He 
characterised  the  preface  to  the  Dictionary  as  disgusting, 
because  of  the  author's  expressions  of  "  his  conscious- 
ness of  superiority,  and  of  his  contempt  of  patronage."  * 
WooU  also  says  that  an  altercation  actually  took  place 
under  Re3niolds's  roof.  "  One  of  the  company  overheard 
the  following  conclusion  of  the  dispute.  Johnson  :  '  Sir, 
1  am  not  used  to  be  contradicted.'  Warton  :  '  Better 
for  yourself  and  friends.  Sir,  if  you  were  ;  our  admiration 
could  not  be  increased,  but  our  love  might.'  "  ^ 

But  the  estrangement  was  only  temporary.  "  I  love 
the  fellow  dearly  for  all  I  laugh  at  him,"  Johnson  is 
said  to  have  remarked  to  Piozzi.  In  1769  the  Doctor 
asked  Warton  to  present  a  Baskerville  Virgil  to  the 
library  of  Trinity  College,  and  in  the  following  year  he 
solicited  from  him  notes  for  his  Shakespeare.  In  1776 
Johnson  and  Boswell  visited  Warton,  when  the  time 
passed   pleasantly  enough.     Boswell  was  very  friendly 

*  Piozzi's  Anec,  p.  64. 

»  Wooll's  Life  of  Joseph  Warton,  p.  231. 

3   Ibid.,  p.  98,  note. 


192  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

with  the  Oxford  poet,  and  in  his  "  Advertisement  to  the 
First  Edition  "  of  the  Life  of  Johnson  he  paid  a  tribute 
to  Warton's  "  genius  and  learning,"  and  described  his 
contributions  to  the  great  biography  as  "  highly 
estimable." 

In  1757  Warton  was  elected  Professor  of  Poetry  at 
Oxford,  a  post  which,  as  has  been  already  stated,  his 
father  also  held.  His  occupancy  of  the  Chair  lasted  ten 
years,  but,  superficially  viewed,  the  results  were  dis- 
appointing. Instead  of  using  his  extensive  knowledge 
and  critical  acumen  to  elucidate  the  sources  of  English 
poetry  and  to  trace  its  growth,  a  task  for  which  he  had 
already  shown  himself  eminently  qualified,  he  lectured 
in  Latin  on  the  classics,  the  only  visible  fruit  of  which 
was  an  edition  of  Theocritus  (1770),  which  he  undertook 
on  the  advice  of  Sir  William  Blackstone. 

Was  Warton  a  failure  as  Professor  of  Poetry  ?  So  far 
as  the  practical  work  of  the  Chair  was  concerned,  he 
must  be  so  regarded.  Even  assuming  his  classical  equip- 
ment was  satisfactory,  though  this  has  been  doubted, 
Latin  lectures  on  the  poetry  of  antiquity  were  bound  to 
make  a  very  limited  appeal.  But  Warton  was  bent  on 
signalising  his  tenure  of  the  Chair  of  Poetry  not  in  the 
classroom,  but  in  the  study.  What  he  denied  to  his 
students  he  gave  to  the  world.  While  prelecting  on  the 
Greek  and  Latin  classics,  he  was  working  hard  on  his 
History  of  English  Poetry — a  work  which  was  to  make 
his  name  a  landmark  in  the  history  of  English  literature. 

The  idea  was  not  new.  Both  Pope  and  Gray  contem- 
plated such  a  history,  but  got  no  further  than  the  pre- 
paration of  rough  sketches.  Gray,  writing  in  1768, 
announced  that  he  had  abandoned  the  project,  having 
"  heard  that  it  was  already  in  the  hands  of  a  person 
[i.e.,  Warton)  well  qualified  to  do  it  justice  both  by  his 
taste  and  his  researches  into  antiquity."     After  Warton 


THOMAS   WARTON  193 

had  sent  his  first  volume  to  press,  Gray  gave  further 
proof  of  his  kindly  interest  by  sending  him  his  pre- 
Hminary  sketch,  in  which  the  poets  were  not  arranged 
chronologically,  but  grouped  according  to  their  simili- 
tude. ^  Warton,  however,  could  make  no  use  of  this 
document,  for  his  History  was  not  only  well  advanced 
before  he  received  Gray's  plan,  but,  what  is  even  more 
important,  followed  the  chronological  arrangement. 

Warton  intended  to  complete  his  survey  of  English 
poetry  "  from  the  close  of  the  eleventh  to  the  commence- 
ment of  the  eighteenth  century  "  in  four  volumes,  but 
three  only  were  published,  the  narrative  being  brought 
down  to  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign.  Prefixed  to  the 
first  volume,  which  appeared  in  1774,  were  two  long 
dissertations,  the  first  dealing  with  the  origin  of  Romantic 
fiction  in  Europe,  and  the  second  with  the  introduction 
of  learning  into  England.  The  second  volume  was 
published  in  1778,  and  the  third,  to  which  was  prefixed 
an  essay  on  the  Gesta  Romanorum,  in  1781. 

Few  great  books  have  been  so  variously  estimated  as 
Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry.  Gibbon  said  that 
it  exhibited  "  the  taste  of  a  poet  and  the  minute  dili- 
gence of  an  antiquarian."  Mason  and  Horace  Walpole 
found  it  unentertaining.  To  Scott  it  was  merely  "  an 
immense  commonplace  book  of  memoirs  to  serve  for  a 
history."  Modern  criticism  is,  on  the  whole,  more 
favourably  inclined.  Sir  Sidney  Lee  classes  the  work 
with  Percy's  Reliques  as  having  helped  to  awaken  an 
interest  in  mediaeval  and  Elizabethan  poetry,  and  main- 
tains that  it  exerted  a  signal  influence  on  its  contem- 
porary currents.  ^  Professor  Courthope,  on  the  other  hand, 
while  acknowledging  his  distinguished  predecessor's  wide 
reading,  sound  scholarship,  fine  and  discriminating  taste, 

^   Gray's  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  iii,  365. 
*  Article  in  Dictionary  of   National  Biography. 
13  — (i34i) 


194  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

and  genuine  poetic  sensibility,  complains  that  he  set  about 
his  work  in  the  spirit  of  an  antiquary,  and  had  no 
conception  of  its  technical  unity.  ^ 

But  when  every  allowance  has  been  made  for  its 
palpable  defects  of  arrangement  and  execution,  its 
errors,  its  digressions,  its  false  generalisations,  and  its 
unpardonable  omission  of  the  drama,  there  remains  a 
singularly  vivid  conspectus  of  the  course  of  our  poetry 
from  its  mediaeval  beginnings  to  the  resplendent  era  of 
Elizabeth.  Warton,  by  adopting  the  chronological  method, 
was  able  to  show  the  gradual  and  orderly  development 
of  his  subject,  which  would  have  been  impossible  had 
he  followed  Gray's  plan.  Moreover,  as  "  Christopher 
North  "  indicated,  the  History  of  English  Poetry  is  a 
mine  of  curious  lore  regarding  some  of  the  most  obscure 
names  in  early  English  literature,  which  even  the  modem 
investigator  cannot  afford  to  despise.  Lastly,  Warton's 
massive  culture,  critical  insight,  and  deep  poetic  sym- 
pathy discovered  to  his  astonished  contemporaries  the 
all-important  truth  that  the  golden  age  of  English  poetry 
was  not  dominated  by  Pope  and  his  satellites,  but  by 
remoter  writers  whom  they  were  wont  to  regard  as  old- 
fashioned,  uncultivated,  and  unreadable. 

It  is  regrettable  that  a  work  which  materially  assisted 
in  diverting  the  stream  of  English  poesy  into  new  and 
deeper  channels  was  not  completed.  Warton  frequently 
promised  the  fourth  volume,  which  would  have  carried 
the  narrative  as  far  as  Pope  ;  but,  instead  of  bending 
all  his  energies  to  the  completion  of  his  great  work,  he 
plunged  into  the  Chatterton  and  Rowley  controversy, 
and  frittered  away  his  time  and  his  talents  on  other 
unprofitable  literary  tasks. 

In  1767  Warton  was  presented  to  the  living  of 
Cuddington,  in  Oxfordshire.     He  also  appears  to  have 

'    History  of  English  Poetry.     Pref.,  p.  xii. 


THOMAS   WARTON  195 

been  Rector  for  a  brief  period  of  Hill  Farrance,  in 
Somerset.  But  he  did  not  take  his  clerical  duties  any 
more  seriously  than  did  Eusden.  He  is  said  to  have 
had  but  two  sermons,  one  of  which  was  his  father's. 
Furthermore,  he  rarely  saw  his  parishioners,  Oxford 
remaining  his  home.  In  1771  his  antiquarian  researches 
were  fittingly  recognised  by  his  being  elected  a  Fellow 
of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  ;  and  in  1785  he  was 
appointed  Camden  Professor  of  History  at  Oxford,  a 
post  for  which  he  was  in  some  respects  admirably  suited. 

The  same  year  also  witnessed  his  promotion  to  the 
Laureateship,  vacant  by  the  death  of  Whitehead.  Accord- 
ing to  Mant,  Warton  had,  a  few  years  before,  expressed 
the  hope  that  "  the  more  than  annual  return  of  a  com- 
position on  a  trite  subject  would  be  no  longer  required."  ^ 
But  this  apparently  did  not  deter  him  from  accepting 
the  appointment  when  it  was  offered  him. 

Warton's  elevation  produced  the  usual  squibs,  though 
they  were  fewer  and  not  so  venomous  as  in  the  case  of 
Whitehead.  Dr.  John  Wolcot,  who,  under  the  pseudo- 
nym of  "  Peter  Pindar,"  was  an  indefatigable  versifier 
of  the  satirical  type,  was  always  on  the  outlook  for  a 
victim,  and  Warton  did  not  escape. 

Tom  proved  unequal  to  the  Laureat's  place, 
He  warbled  with  an  Attic  grace  : 
The  language  was  not  understood  at  court, 
Where  bow  and  courtesy,  grin  and  shrug  resort ; 
Sorrow  for  sickness,  joy  for  health,  so  civil. 
And  love,  that  wished  each  other  to  the  devil  I 

Tom  was  a  scholar — luckless  wight  ! 

Lodged  with  old  manners  in  a  musty  college  ; 

He  knew  not,  that  a  palace  hated  knowledge, 
And  deemed  it  pedantry  to  spell  and  write, 

Tom  heard  of  royal  libraries,  indeed. 

And  weakly  fancied  that  the  books  were  read. 

*  Memoir,  pref.  to  Warton's  Poems  (2  vols.,  1802),  p    85. 


196  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

But  the  most  famous  lampoon  called  forth  by  Warton's 
appointment  was  Probationary  Odes  for  the  Laureateship , 
a  work  which  might  almost  be  said  to  be  the  prototype 
of  the  Rejected  Addresses  (1812)  of  James  and  Horace 
Smith.  It  consisted  of  a  collection  of  satires  and 
parodies  purporting  to  be  the  competitive  essays  of 
Warton's  rivals.  Among  these  was  placed  the  first 
Birthday  ode  which  the  new  Laureate  composed.  In  one 
of  the  pieces,  Warton  is  described  as  "  a  little,  thick, 
squat,  red-faced  man,"  and  his  brother,  Joseph,  is  made 
to  hug  him,  when  he  sees  the  new  Laureate  descend 
safely  in  a  balloon  in  which  he  had  written  his  first  ode. 
A  copy  of  Probationary  Odes  was  sent  to  Warton,  with  a 
letter  in  which  the  editor  of  the  volume  thanked  him 
"  for  the  inimitable  effort  of  genuine  humour  which 
proceeded  from  him  on  that  occasion  (the  composition 
of  his  first  ode),  without  which  the  world  would  have 
been  deprived  of  the  most  astonishing  exhibition  of 
genuine  joke  that  ever  graced  the  annals  of  literature." 
The  satire  was  intended  to  make  Warton  angry,  but  it 
signally  failed.  Gifted  with  the  saving  grace  of  humour, 
no  one  more  enjoyed  Probationary  Odes  than  the 
Laureate.     He  even  admitted  their  cleverness. 

Good  judge  of  poetry  though  he  was,  Warton  himself 
had  but  slender  skill  in  the  art  of  versification.  As 
Laureate,  he  showed  too  much  fidelity  to  the  standards 
of  his  predecessors.  His  odes,  admittedly,  were  not  so 
wooden  as  those  of  Eusden  and  Whitehead,  but  it  is 
difticult  to  assign  him  much  higher  rank.  Mant  refers 
to  his  odes  as  being  "  the  most  striking  testimony  of  the 
strength  of  Warton's  poetical  genius,"  ^  an  opinion 
which  does  not  say  much  for  the  discrimination  of  the 
person  who  uttered  it  ;  but  it  may  be  conceded  that 
Warton's  official  poems  are  "  distinguished  not  only  by 

^  Memoir,  pp.   155-6. 


THOMAS   WARTON  197 

the  manliness  of  their  sentiments,  but  by  the  feUcity  of 
their  classical  allusions  and  the  richness  of  their  Gothic 
imagery."  1  Unfortunately,  "classical  allusions,"  even 
though  they  are  apt,  and  "  Gothic  imagery  "  are  no 
great  recommendations  in  the  case  of  Laureate  odes. 

Warton's  poems  exhibit  little  creative  power.  In  form 
they  are  too  obviously  fashioned  on  those  of  Spenser, 
Milton,  and  Gray  ;  in  substance  they  echo  the  turgid 
commonplace  of  the  rest  of  the  Georgian  bards.  But 
his  Laureate  odes  are  better  than  those  of  his 
immediate  predecessors.  They  are  more  interesting, 
and  far  less  unctuous.  Warton  was  incapable  of  the 
disgusting  laudation  associated  with  the  names  of  Tate 
and  Eusden.  "  He  has  shown,"  Mant  truly  observes, 
"  how  a  poet  may  celebrate  his  sovereign,  not  with  the 
fulsome  adoration  of  an  Augustan  courtier  or  the  base 
prostration  of  an  Oriental  slave,  but  with  the  genuine 
spirit  and  erect  front  of  an  Englishman."  ^  Warton 
rarely  offered  up,  to  quote  his  OAvn  words,  the  "  incense 
of  promiscuous  praise "  :  he  did  not  disgrace  "  his 
regal  bays  "  with  "  servile  fear." 

In  his  Birthday  ode  for  1787,  which  is  generally 
regarded  as  his  best,  he  is  refreshing,  for,  instead  of 
inflicting  on  his  royal  master  the  adulatory  ode  which 
had  been  his  annually  for  six-and-twenty  years,  he 
weaves  into  his  poem  an  interesting  appraisement  of 
the  work  of  previous  Laureates.  Here  are  the  last 
two  stanzas — 

At  length  the  matchless  Dryden  came, 

To  light  the  Muses'  clearer  flame  ; 

To  lofty  numbers  grace  to  lend, 

And  strength  with  melody  to  blend  ; 
To  triumph  in  the  bold  career  of  song 
And  roll  th'  unwearied  energy  along. 

^  Mant's  Memoir,  p.   156. 
»  Ibid.,  p.  85. 


198  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Does  the  mean  incense  of  promiscuous  praise. 
Does  servile  fear,  disgrace  his  regal  bays  ? 

I  spurn  his  panegyric  strings, 

His  partial  homage,  tun'd  to  kings  ! 

Be  mine  to  catch  his  manlier  chord, 
That  paints  th'  impassioned  Persian  lord, 
By  glory  fir'd,  to  pity  su'd, 

Rous'd  to  revenge,  by  love  subdu'd  ; 
And  still,  with  transport  new,  the  strains  to  trace 
That  chant  the  Theban  pair,  and  Tancred's  deadly  vase. 

Had  these  blest  bards  been  call'd  to  pay 

The  vows  of  this  auspicious  day. 

Each  had  confess 'd  a  fairer  throne, 

A  mightier  sovereign  than  his  own  ! 
Chaucer  had  bade  his  hero-monarch  yield 
The  martial  fame  of  Cressy's  well-fought  field 
To  peaceful  prowess,  and  the  conquests  calm. 
That  braid  the  sceptre  with  the  patriot's  palm  : 

His  chaplets  of  fantastic  bloom, 

His  colourings,  warm  from  Fiction's  loom, 

Spenser  had  cast  in  scorn  away. 

And  deck'd  with  truth  alone  the  lay  ; 

All  real  here,  the  bard  had  seen 

The  glories  of  his  pictur'd  queen  ! 
The  tuneful  Dryden  had  not  flatter'd  here, 
His  lyre  had  blameless  been,  his  tribute  all  sincere  ! 

Take,  again,  the  Birthday  ode  for  1785,  the  first  which 
Warton  composed.  It  is  banal,  no  doubt,  but  it  is 
none  the  less  permeated  by  a  wholesome  sentiment. 
The  first  stanza  is  as  follows — 

Amid  the  thunder  of  the  war. 

True  glory  guides  no  echoing  car  ; 

Nor  bids  the  sword  her  bays  bequeath. 

Nor  stains  with  blood  her  brightest  wreath  ; 
No  plumed  hosts  her  tranquil  triumphs  own  ; 
Nor  spoils  of  murder'd  multitudes  she  brings. 
To  swell  the  state  of  her  distinguish 'd  kings. 
And  deck  her  chosen  throne. 

On  that  fair  throne,  to  Britain  dear. 
With  the  fiow'ring  olive  twin'd 

High  she  hangs  the  hero's  spear, 
And  there  with  all  the  palms  of  peace  combined, 
Her  unpolluted   hands   the   milder  trophy  rear. 


THOMAS   WARTON  199 

To  kings  like  these,  her  genuine  theme. 
The  Muse  a  blameless  homage  pays  ; 
To  George  of  kings  like  these  supreme 
She  wishes  honour'd  length  of  days, 
Nor  prostitutes  the  tribute  of  her  lays. 

Fortunately,  Warton's  official  odes  are  the  least 
significant  portion  of  his  verse.  It  was  in  his  sonnets 
that  he  shone  to  most  advantage.  In  his  To  the  River 
Lodon,  which  is  said  to  have  suggested  Coleridge's  line, 

Dear  native  stream,  wild   streamlet  of  the  west  !, 

if  not  also  Wordsworth's  series,  On  the  River  Duddon, 
Warton  clearly  announced  that  the  reaction  against  the 
school  of  Pope  was  already  in  full  swing.  It  is  a  poet 
passionately  fond  of  Nature  that  stands  revealed  in 
this  sonnet. 

Ah  I    what  a  weary  race  my  feet  have  run 

Since  first  I  trod  thy  banks  with  alders  crowned, 

And  thought  my  way  was  all  through  fairy  ground. 

Beneath  the  azure  sky  and  golden  sun — 

Where  first  my  muse  to  lisp  her  notes  begun  ! 

While  pensive  memory  traces  back  the  round 

Which  fills  the  varied  interval  between  ; 

Much  pleasure,  more  of  sorroAv  marks  the  scene. 

Sweet  native  stream  !    those  skies  and  sun  so  pure. 

No  more  return  to  cheer  my  evening  road  ! 

Yet  still  one  joy  remains,  that  not  obscure 

Nor  useless  all  my  vacant  days  have  flowed 

From  youth's  gay  dawn  to  manhood's  prime  mature. 

Nor  with  the  muse's  laurel  unbestowed. 

In  humorous  verse,  too,  Warton  sometimes  attained  a 
high  level  of  excellence,  as,  for  instance,  in  his  poem  in 
praise  of  Oxford  ale. 

Balm  of  my  cares,  sweet  solace  of  my  toils. 

Hail  juice  benignant  !    O'er  the  costly  cups 

Of  riot-stirring  wine,  unwholesome  draught. 

Let  pride's  loose  sons  prolong  the  wasteful  night ; 

My  sober  ev'ning  let  the  tankard  bless. 

With  toast  embrown'd,  and  fragrant  nutmeg  fraught, 

While  the  rich  draught  with  oft-repeated  whiffs 

Tobacco  mild  improves.     Divine  repast  ! 


200  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

WTiere  no  crude  surfeit,  or  intemperate  joys 

Of  lawless  Bacchus'  reign  ;  but  o'er  my  soul 

A  calm  Lethean  creeps  ;  in  drowsy  trance 

Each  thought  subsides,  and  sweet  oblivion  wraps 

My  peaceful  brain,  as  if  the  leaden  rod 

Of  magic  Morpheus  o'er  mine  eyes  had  shed 

Its  opiate  influence. 

No  fewer  than  four  editions  of  Warton's  poems  were 
published  between  1777  and  1789,  which  shows  that  he 
did  not  go  unappreciated  in  his  own  day. 

In  1785  Warton  pubhshed  the  first  volume  of  his 
edition  of  Milton's  minor  poems,  his  object  being  "  to 
explain  his  author's  allusions,  to  illustrate  or  to  vindi- 
cate his  beauties,  to  point  out  his  imitations  both  of 
others  and  of  himself,  to  elucidate  his  obsolete  diction," 
to  ascertain  his  favourite  words,  and  to  show  the 
pecuharities  of  his  phraseology.  Warton  executed  his 
task  in  a  manner  which  testified  alike  to  his  critical 
powers  and  to  his  marvellous  knowledge  of  the  earlier 
masters  of  Enghsh  poetry.  Leigh  Hunt  described  the 
volume  as  "a  wilderness  of  sweets,"  while  Professor 
Masson  regarded  it  as  giving  promise  of  the  best  critical 
edition  of  the  minor  poems  of  the  great  Puritan. 

Warton,  unfortunately,  did  not  live  to  complete  the 
work  so  auspiciously  begun.  Early  in  1790  he  was 
attacked  by  gout,  and  went  to  Bath  in  the  hope  of  a 
cure.  He  returned  to  Oxford  partially  restored,  but  on 
21st  May,  1790,  he  succumbed  to  a  shock  of  paralysis. 
He  was  laid  to  rest  where  he  most  wished  to  lie — in  the 
chapel  of  his  own  College.  On  his  tomb  was  placed  an 
inscription  in  flawless  Latin. 

The  portrait  of  Warton  painted  by  his  friends,  and 
not  wholly  repudiated  by  his  literary  enemies,  is 
decidedly  amiable.  All  might  not  agree  with 
"  Christopher  North's  "  superlative  testimony  that 
"  Tom  Warton  was  the  finest  fellow  that  ever  breathed," 


THOMAS    VVARTON  201 

but  there  was  a  general  consensus  of  opinion  that  he 
possessed  many  qualities  of  head  and  heart  that  go 
towards  the  enrichment  of  character.  His  most  obvious 
characteristic  was  his  good  nature.  To  the  end  he 
retained  the  ingenuousness,  the  light-heartedness,  the 
daring  of  youth.  He  was  a  sort  of  eighteenth-century 
Peter  Pan — "  the  boy  who  wouldn't  grow  up." 

Nothing  pleased  him  better  when  he  went  to  visit  his 
brother  Joseph,  who  was  headmaster  of  Winchester 
School,  than  to  romp  with  the  boys,  and  to  aid  and 
abet  them  in  all  kinds  of  mischief.  Two  stories  illus- 
trate this.  One  tells  how  on  a  certain  occasion  he  was 
helping  some  of  the  boys  to  cook  purloined  victuals  in 
the  kitchen  of  the  school,  when  the  headmaster  was 
heard  approaching.  All  the  boys  fled,  but  the  Poet 
Laureate  and  the  learned  historian  of  English  poetry 
hid  himself  in  a  dark  corner,  from  which  he  was  dragged 
by  his  own  brother.  The  other  Winchester  reminiscence 
is  to  the  effect  that  Warton  would  frequently  perform 
the  scholars'  exercises  to  save  them  from  punishment. 
Once  it  happened  that  the  exercise  was  obviously  too 
weU  performed,  and  the  headmaster,  guessing  the  real 
author,  called  his  brother  to  listen  to  the  successful  boy. 
"  Is  it  not  a  good  exercise  ?  "  said  Dr.  Joseph  ;  "  worth 
half-a-crown,  is  it  not  ?  "  "  Yes,  certainly  it  is," 
rephed  the  Laureate.  "  Well  then,"  added  his  brother, 
"  you  shall  give  the  boy  one." 

No  one  could  have  looked  less  a  royal  poet  than 
Warton.  His  figure  was  short  and  rotund,  his  face  was 
fat  and  betokened  little  refinement,  his  speech  resembled 
the  "  gobble  of  a  turkey-cock,"  his  dress  was  slovenly, 
and,  according  to  Fanny  Burney,  who  met  him  in  1783, 
he  was  "  unformed  in  his  manners,"  awkward  in  his 
gestures,  and  "  joined  not  one  word  in  the  general  talk."  ^ 

1  Mme.  D'Arblay  Diary,  ii.  237. 


202  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Warton  certainly  did  not  shine  in  the  hterary  society 
of  London.  Nor  did  he  attempt  to  do  so.  But  those 
who  saw  him  in  the  common-room  at  Oxford,  knew 
him  to  be  the  HveUest,  the  most  talkative,  and  the 
wittiest  of  men.  Boswell  gives  a  good  example  of  his 
repartee.  One  day  a  discussion  arose  as  to  whether 
Horace  Walpole  or  Mason  was  the  author  of  the  famous 
Heroick  Epistle,  which  satirised  Johnson.  Some  one 
remarked  that  there  was  more  energy  in  the  poem  than 
could  be  expected  from  Walpole,  whereat  the  Laureate 
suggested  that  it  might  have  been  "  written  by  Walpole 
and  buckram' d  by  Mason."  Warton,  it  has  been 
observed,  was  "  bred  in  the  school  of  punsters  ;  and 
made  as  many  good  puns  as  Barton  and  Leigh,  the 
celebrated  word-hunters  of  the  day." 

Not  a  few  shortcomings  can  be  laid  to  Warton's 
charge.  They  were  venial,  it  is  true  ;  but  they  ill- 
comported  with  the  dignity  one  reasonably  looks  for  in  a 
person  who  not  only  held  a  royal  office,  but  was  a  clergy- 
man. He  had  an  unconquerable  aversion  to  intellectual 
society.  What  he  loved  most  was  a  little  jollification  in 
a  tavern  where,  over  a  pipe  and  a  tankard  of  ale,  he 
might  regale  its  jocund  frequenters  with  the  sallies  of 
wit  that  had  previously  made  the  common-room  ring 
with  laughter.  Indeed,  he  had  a  curious  predilection 
for  low-born,  illiterate,  and  often  not  very  respectable 
company.  He  is  said  to  have  found  some  of  his  most 
intimate  friends  among  the  Oxford  watermen,  and  to 
have  scandalised  his  fellow  dons  by  lounging  with  them 
about  the  river. 

Akin  to  such  eccentricities  was  his  belief  in  ghosts,  and 
his  taste  for  sordid  and  gruesome  spectacles.  He  would 
walk  a  long  distance  to  see  a  travelling  show,  or  a  public 
fight  ;  and,  on  one  occasion,  he  disguised  himself  as  a 
carter   in   order   that   he   might   witness   an   execution. 


THOMAS   WARTON  203 

But  with  all  his  peccadillos,  Wart  on  was  no  contemptible 
person  laying  waste  his  powers  by  tippling  and  indolence. 
He  grievously  sinned  against  decorum,  but  it  would  be 
difficult  to  bring  home  a  charge  of  moral  slackness. 
He  was,  for  the  most  part,  Spartan  in  his  habits,  and  in 
his  fare.  He  rose  early,  devoted  a  portion  of  each  day 
to  stud3^  and  held  many  "  sessions  of  sweet  silent 
thought  "  while  lounging  in  the  Bodleian  Library  or 
sauntering  by  the  Cherwell. 

Warton  stands  out  as  the  most  lovable  of  all  the 
Hanoverian  Laureates.  We  do  not  read  his  verse 
nowadays,  but  we  respect  the  man,  and  remember 
gratefully  that  he  revived  the  sonnet,  and  directed  his 
countrymen  to  the  pure  fountains  of  English  poesy. 


CHAPTER   XII 

HENRY    JAMES    PYE 

Gibbon,  who  loathed  royal  odes  as  he  loathed  letter- 
writing  and  the  militia,  suggested  that  the  best  time 
for  abolishing  the  ridiculous  custom  of  inditing  annual 
panegyrics  of  the  reigning  monarch  was  while  the  prince 
was  a  man  of  virtue  and  the  poet  a  man  of  genius. 
Whatever  one  may  think  of  the  historian's  judgment  in 
extolling  the  third  of  the  Georges  for  his  virtue  and 
Warton  for  his  genius,  his  plea  for  the  abolition  of  the 
yearly  ode  was  eminently  sound.  The  poetical  lauda- 
tion of  the  King  at  regular  intervals  was  a  preposterous 
anachronism,  detrimental  alike  to  the  self-esteem  of  him 
who  offered  homage,  and  of  him  who  received  it. 

The  advice  of  the  author  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire  was  ignored,  though  in  the  long  run 
it  bore  fruit,  for  Henry  James  Pye,  on  whom  was 
bestowed  the  laurel  at  Warton's  death,  wrote  such 
execrable  effusions  that  he  helped  to  give  the  deathblow 
to  the  annual  ode.  Never  again  was  a  Poet  Laureate 
compelled  to  write  regularly  a  birthday  ode  in  honour 
of  His  Majesty.  The  grotesque  productions  of  the 
"  poetical  Pye,"  as  Scott  called  him,  overwhelmed  the 
custom  with  ridicule. 

Pye's  appointment  was  the  signal  for  the  withdrawal 
of  the  last  vestige  of  literary  respect  for  the  Laureate- 
ship.  The  ofifice  could  sink  no  lower.  Eusden  and 
Whitehead  were  contemptible,  but  Pye  was  insufferable. 
Police  magistrate,  poetaster,  and  dullard,  he  was 
branded  by  Byron  as  "  eminently  respectable  in  every- 
thing but  his  poetry."  In  The  Vision  of  Judgment,  Pye 
is    made    to    feel    the    full    force   of   Byron's   invective. 

204 


HENRY  JAMES  PYE  205 

Readers  of  that  satire  will  remember  how  the  thought  of 
Pye's  return  fairly  roused  the  monarch  who, 

Mute  till  then,  exclaim'd  What  !    what  ! 
Pye  come  again  ?     No  more — no  more  of  that  ! 

For  two-and-twenty  years  Pye,  with  distressing  punctu- 
ality, inflicted  odes  on  George  III,  which  for  gross  adula- 
tion, sheer  impudence,  and  poetic  worthlessness  had  never 
been  surpassed,  not  even  by  Eusden.  He  was  inveighed 
against,  ridiculed,  bracketed  with  the  meanest  of 
scribblers,  but  he  continued  rhyming,  doggedly  and 
complacently.  Nothing,  alas  !  could  shake  Pye's  belief 
that  he  was  bom  to  scale  the  heights  of  Parnassus. 
For  many  years  he  was  mentioned  contemptuously  along 
with  another  minor  bard,  Charles  Small  Pybus :  hence 
the  phrase  Pye  et  parvus  Pybus.  The  latter  staked  his 
reputation  on  a  poem,  entitled.  The  Sovereign,  which  was 
the  negation  of  poetry,  and  led  the  erudite  Porson  to 
satirise  the  author  and  Pye  in  the  following  epigram — 

Poetis  nos  laestamur  tribus, 

Pye,   Petro  Pindar,   Parvo   Pybus. 

Si  ulterius  ire  pergis, 

Adde  his  Sir  James  Bland  Burges.  ^ 

But  Pye,  much  as  he  loved  the  Muses,  loved  patriotism 
still  more.  "  I  am  glad  to  have  it  observed,"  he 
pompously  remarks,  "  that  there  appears  throughout 
my  verse  a  zeal  for  the  honour  of  my  country,  and  I  had 
rather  be  thought  a  good  Englishman  than  the  best  poet 
or  the  greatest  scholar  that  ever  wrote."  If  only  Pye's 
zeal  for  the  honour  of  his  country  had  taken  another 
form,  we  should  have  been  spared,  as  some  one  has 
remarked,  many  brilliant  examples  of  the  art  of  sinking 
in  poetry. 

Pye  had  one  advantage  over  Eusden,  who  shares  with 

^  A  literarv  co-worker  with  Pve. 


206  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

him  the  unenviable  distinction  of  placing  the  Laureate- 
ship  at  zero — he  was  thoroughly  respectable.  He  was 
sober,  reliable,  painstaking.  Whatever  Pye  undertook, 
whether  it  was  the  inditing  of  an  ode,  or  the  writing  of  a 
play,  or  the  editing  of  a  dictionary  of  sport,  or  the  com- 
piling of  a  compendium  for  justices  of  the  peace,  he  did 
with  all  his  might.  On  the  police-court  bench  Pye  did 
excellently,  but  once  he  ventured  on  work  demanding 
the  slightest  literary  or  imaginative  effort  he  was 
hopelessly  lost. 

Henry  James  Pye,  the  most  ludicrous  of  all  the  Poets 
Laureate,  was  born  in  London  in  1745.  His  family  was 
both  aristocratic  and  opulent.  His  father,  Henry  Pye 
(1710-66),  of  Faringdon,  Berkshire,  was  the  great- 
grandson  of  that  Sir  Robert  Pye,  who  married  a  daughter 
of  the  patriot,  John  Hampden,  and  became  the  noted 
Parliamentarian.  This  Pye  was  the  son  of  another 
Sir  Robert  Pye,  who  was  Auditor  of  the  Exchequer  in 
the  reign  of  James  I,  and  who,  because  of  his  dilatoriness 
in  paying  Ben  Jonson  his  salary  as  Laureate,  was  thus 
immortalised — 

My  woful  cry 
To  Sir  Robert  Pye  ; 
And  that  he  will  venture 
To  send  my  debenture. 
Tell  him  his  Ben 
Knew  the  time  when 
He  loved  the  Muses  ; 
Though  now  he  refuses 
To  take  apprehension 
Of  a  year's  pension. 
And  more,  is  behind  ; 
Put  him  in  mind 
Christmas  is  near. 

The  poet's  father,  Henry  Pye,  took  a  prominent  part 
in  public  life,  representing  his  county  in  Parliament  for 
twenty  years  ;  but  he  was  either  grossly  extravagant 
or  unable  to  look  after  his  financial  affairs,  for    along 


HENRY   JAMES   PYE  207 

with  the  estates  of  Faringdon,  he  bequeathed  to  his 
eldest  son,  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  debts  amounting 
to  £50,000.  The  Laureate,  be  it  said  to  his  honour, 
made  heroic  efforts  to  pay  off  this  immense  sum,  a  task 
which  was  rendered  all  the  more  difficult  by  the  neces- 
sity of  having  to  rebuild  the  mansion  of  Faringdon, 
which  was  totally  destroyed  by  fire  soon  after  his 
father's  death. 

Pye  was  privately  educated  until  he  was  seventeen, 
when  he  became  a  gentleman-commoner  at  Magdalen 
College,  Oxford.  In  1766  he  received  the  M.A.  degree, 
but  a  much  greater  academic  honour  fell  to  him  six 
years  later,  when,  on  the  occasion  of  the  installation  of 
Lord  North  as  Chancellor,  he  became  a  D.C.L.  While 
still  a  student  at  Magdalen  College,  he  succeeded  to  the 
family  estates,  and  immediately  thereafter  fell  in  love 
with  the  handsome  and  talented  daughter  of  Colonel 
William  Hook,  whom  he  married  when  he  was  barely 
twenty-one.  This  lady,  shortly  after  her  marriage, 
wrote  a  farce,  entitled,  The  Capricious  Lady,  which  was 
acted  at  Drury  Lane  in  1771  for  the  benefit  of  Mr. 
Inchbald  and  Mrs.  Morland. 

Pye,  as  we  shall  see,  fully  shared  the  dramatic  pro- 
pensities of  his  wife,  but  meanwhile  he  was  engaged  in 
the  formidable  task  of  building  up  the  shattered  fortunes 
of  his  family.  At  this  period  he  lived  chiefly  at  his 
country  seat,  dividing  his  time  between  his  studies,  the 
diversions  of  the  field  to  which  he  was  much  attached, 
and  his  public  work,  for  Pye  never  forgot  his  obligations 
on  behalf  of  the  common  weal.  He  obtained  a  com- 
mission in  the  Berkshire  militia,  became  a  conscientious 
county  magistrate,  and,  in  1784,  entered  the  House  of 
Commons  as  the  representative  of  Berkshire,  the  seat 
which  his  father  had  held  so  long. 

His  entry  into  politics  was  a  huge  blunder.     A  seat  in 


208  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Parliament  in  pre-Reform  days  could  only  be  obtained 
and  maintained  at  enormous  expense.  The  result  was 
that  Pye  had  eventually  to  sell  the  paternal  estate. 
Moreover,  he  made  no  mark  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
where  he  was  almost  as  silent  as  Gibbon.  In  1788, 
however,  he  summoned  up  courage  to  tell  the  House 
that  his  constituents  had  suffered  from  a  bad  hay 
harvest.  At  the  dissolution  of  1790,  he  took  a  long 
farewell  of  Parliament  and  politics. 

But  Pye's  great  sacrifice  was  not  without  its  recom- 
pense. During  the  six  years  he  had  sat  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  he  had  given  unflinching  support  to  Pitt, 
a  service  which  that  non-literary  Prime  Minister  rewarded 
in  1790  by  appointing  Pye  to  the  post  of  Laureate  in 
succession  to  Wart  on.  Two  years  later,  the  official  poet 
augmented  his  labours  and  his  income  by  assuming  a 
new  role — that  of  police  magistrate  for  Westminster, 
a  post  in  which,  amid  all  the  exigencies  of  his  poetical 
office,  he  "  conducted  himself  with  honour  and  ability." 
The  Poet  Laureate  became  learned  in  police  law,  and 
in  due  season  earned  the  gratitude  of  many  a  perplexed 
Justice  of  the  Peace  by  issuing  a  compendium  of  the 
duties  of  the  office,  which  ran  through  four  editions. 

Pye's  appointment  to  the  Laureateship  astounded  the 
literary  world,  and  excited  the  fury  of  contemporary 
bards  to  an  unwonted  degree.  Of  all  the  insults  to 
which  the  office  had  been  subjected,  this,  it  was  felt, 
was  the  most  outrageous.  "  Better,"  wrote  one  satirist, 
"  to  err  with  Pope,  than  shine  with  Pye."  But  the 
long  crescendo  of  mirth  and  scorn  found  its  most  notable 
expression  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Poet  Laureate  (1790) — 

Of  all  the  Poets  of  our  Isle 

Who  rhyme  for  fame  or  fee, 
Methinks  our  gracious  Sovereign's  smile 

Was  wisely  fixed  on  thee. 


HENRY   JAMES   PYE  209 

Thou,  who  of  poetry  or  Pitt 

The  merits  canst  rehearse, 
Prepared  alike  to  show  thy  wit 

By  venal  vote  or  verse. 

Methinks  with  rage  at  every  line 

A  British  Breast  should  glow, 
And  British  hands  disdain  to  twine 

The  laurel  round  thy  brow. 

•  •  • 

So  shalt  thou  wade  through  thick  and  thin 

To  pour  a  mortal  lay, 
And  plunge  in  falsehood  to  the  chin 

Thy  Dullness  to  display. 

So  shall  thy  unpoetic  eye 

In  a  vile  phrenzy  roll ; 
So  shall  the  names  of  George  and  Pye 

Be  blessed  from  Pole  to  Pole. 

Though  Pye  said,  as  has  been  noted,  that  he  would 
rather  be  regarded  as  a  good  Englishman  than  as  the 
best  poet,  it  is  evident  that  from  an  early  period  he  had 
an  ambition  to  court  the  Muses.  Towards  this  end 
he  toiled  laboriously  for  years.  What  fixed  him  a 
"  rhymer  for  life,"  says  a  writer  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  was  "  the  rapture  which  he  received  "  from  a 
perusal  of  Pope's  Homer  when  he  was  only  ten  years 
old.  From  that  time  onwards,  Pve  was  assiduous  in 
his  devotion  to  versifying.  He  read  the  classics  omni- 
vorously,  and  he  was  continually  scribbling  verses  on 
themes  great  and  small. 

The  earliest  poem  to  get  into  print  was  an  ode  on  the 
birth  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  composed  in  his  seventeenth 
year.  A  more  pretentious  but  wholly  uninspired  per- 
formance was  Beauty  :  A  Poetical  Essay  (1766),  which 
faintly  echoed  the  strains  of  Pope.  Other  themes  with 
which  Pye  poetically  beguiled  himself  in  pre-Laureate  days 
were  shooting,  ballooning,  and  the  triumph  of  fashion. 
He  also  sent  forth  a  verse  translation  of  Six  Olympic 

14— («34i) 


210  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Odes  of  Pindar,  a  translation  of  the  Poetics  of  Aristotle 
that  was  barely  passable  ;  and  The  Progress  of  Refine- 
ment (1783),  a  poem  in  three  parts,  being  "  a  history  of 
the  procedure  of  the  human  mind,  in  manners,  learning, 
and  taste,  from  the  first  dawnings  of  cultivated  life  to 
the  present  day."  ^  The  poem,  we  learn  from  the  same 
authority,  "  displays  the  great  knowledge  of  the  author, 
the  elegance  of  his  genius,  and  the  soundness  of  his 
judgment."  In  1787,  Pye  was  presumptuous  enough 
to  collect  the  poems  of  this  period  in  two  octavo  volumes, 
and  to  inflict  them  on  a  long-suffering  public. 

Pye's  claims  to  the  Laureateship  rested  on  the  most 
slender  of  foundations — wearisome  rhyme  and  intermin- 
able platitude.  But  nothing  could  damp  his  poetical 
ardour.  What  he  could  not  attain  by  merit,  he 
attempted  to  attain  by  prodigious  industry.  He  toiled 
at  his  ofificial  odes,  in  which  patriotism  and  loyalty  vied 
with  each  other  for  the  mastery  ;  and  every  year,  as 
the  King's  birthday  approached,  he  would  hand  one  of 
those  immaculate  effusions  to  the  Court  composer,  who 
set  it  to  music  and  had  it  performed  at  the  State 
Drawing  Rooms.  It  is  said  that  the  words  were  often 
drowned  by  the  instruments.  Certainly,  it  was  a  con- 
summation to  be  devoutly  wished.  The  following  may 
be  taken  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  fustian  with  which 
the  persevering  Pye  annually  overwhelmed  his  King  and 
country — 

But  Tyranny  soon  learn'd  to  seize. 
The  art  improving  Science  taught, 
The  white  sail  courts  the  distant  breeze. 
With  horror  and   destruction  fraught ; 

From  the  tall  mast  fell  War  unfurl'd 

His  banners  to  a  new-found  world  ; 

Oppression  arm'd  with  giant  pride, 

And  bigot  Fury  by  her  side  ; 

1   Gentleman's  Magazine.  1813,  Pt.  II,  294. 


HENRY  JAMES   PYE  211 

Dire  desolation  bath'd  in  blood, 

Pale  Av'rice,  and  her  harpy  brood, 
To  each  affrighted  shore  in  thunder  spoke, 
And  bow'd  the  wretched  race  to  Slav'ry's  iron  yoke. 

Not  such  the  gentler  views  that  urge 

Britannia's  sons  to  dare  the  surge  ; 

Not  such  the  gifts  her  Drake,  her  Raleigh  bore 

To  the  wild  inmates  of  th'  Atlantic  shore. 

Teaching  each  dread  wood's  pathless  scene 

The  glories  of  their  virgin  queen. 

Nor  such  her  later  chiefs  who  try, 

Impell'd  by  soft  humanity, 

The  boist'rous  wave,  the  rugged  coast, 

The  burning  zone,  the  polar  frost. 
That  climes  remote,  and  regions  yet  unknown, 
May  share  a  George's  sway,  and  bless  his  patriot  throne. 

But  Pye's  proficiency  in  the  art  of  sinking  in  poetry  is, 
perhaps,  seen  to  most  advantage  in  his  Birthday  ode 
for  1800,  which  metrically  resembles  the  National 
Anthem. 

God  of  our  fathers  rise. 

And  through  the  thund'ring  skies 

Thy  vengeance  urge 
In  awful  justice  red, 
By  thy  dread  arrows  sped. 
But  guard  our  Monarch's  head, 

God  save  great  George. 

Still  on  our  Albion  smile. 
Still  o'er  this  favor'd  isle, 

O,  spread  thy  wing  ! 
To  make  each  blessing  sure, 
To  make  our  fame  endure, 
To  make  our  rights  secure, 

God  save  our  King  ! 

To  the  loud  trumpet's  throat 
To  the  shrill  clarion's  note. 

Now  jocund  sing. 
From  every  open  foe. 
From  every  traitor's  blow, 
Virtue  defend  his  brow, 

God  guard  our  King  ! 


212  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

In  the  following  lines,  Pye  gives  utterance  to  his  lofty 
patriotism — 

To  arms  I    your  ensigns  straight  display  ! 

Now  set  the  battle  in  array, 

The  oracle  for  war  declares, 

Success  depends  upon  our  hearts  and  spears  ! 

Another  ode  contained  so  many  allusions  to  feathered 
choirs,  that  George  Steevens,  on  reading  it,  perpetrated 
the  following  impromptu — 

And   when   the   pie   was  opened 
The  birds  began  to  sing  ; 
And  wasn't  that  a  dainty  dish 
To  set  before  a  king  ? 

If  Pye  was  incapable  of  adorning  his  office,  he  at 
least  effected  a  change  in  the  conditions  of  its  tenure, 
which  was  calculated  to  make  Laureates  more  sober  for 
the  future.  He  stipulated  that  the  tierce  of  Canary 
wine  which,  in  addition  to  the  salary,  had  previously 
been  given  annually  to  the  Court  poet,  should  be 
commuted  for  a  sum  of  £21. 

In  addition  to  his  official  odes,  Pye  turned  out  with 
alarming  rapidity  many  poems  of  great  length  and 
undeniable  dullness.  These  included  War  Elegies  of 
Tyrtceus  imitated  (1795)  ;  Naucratia,  or  Naval  Dominion 
(1798)  ;  Carmen  Seculare  (1799)  ,•  and  Alfred  (1801). 
The  latter  Pye  regarded  as  his  magnum  opus,  as  well  he 
might.  It  consists  of  six  books,  and  extends  to  more 
than  4,000  decasyllabic  rhyming  lines.  While  pur- 
porting to  relate  the  story  of  the  popular  King  of  the 
West  Saxons,  the  work  is  really  a  paean  on  the  union 
with  Ireland,  which  had  just  been  consummated.  The 
political  colour  of  the  poem  is  further  attested  by  the 
fact  that  it  was  dedicated  to  Addington,  the  Prime 
Minister.  After  treating  some  incidents  of  Alfred's 
life  in  an  utterly  unhistoric  spirit,  Pye  draws  a  glowing 


HENRY   JAMES   PYE  213 

picture  of  a  future  in  which  English,  Scotch,  Welsh,  and 
Irish  shall  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  defence  of  the 
common  heritage. 

Now  learn  events  yet  unrevealed  that  lie 

In  the  dark  bosom  of  futurity. 

As  my  delighted  eyes  in  yon  firm  line 

With  friendly  folds  see  Albion's  banners  join, 

I  view  them  in  prophetic  vision  shewn 

United  subjects  of  a  mighty  throne  ; 

See  Cambria's,  Caledonia's,  Anglia's  name 

Blended  and  lost  in  Britain's  prouder  fame. 

And  ye,  fair  Erin's  sons,  though  Ocean's  tide 

From  Britain's  shores  your  kindred  shores  divide, 

That  tide  shall  bear  your  mingled  flags  unfurl'd 

A  mutual  barrier  from  an  envying  world  ; 

While  the  same  waves  that  hostile  inroad  awe 

The  sister  isles  to  closer  compact  draw. 

Waft  Friendship's  intercourse  and  Plenty's  stores 

From  Shannon's  brink  to  Humber's  distant  shores. 

Each  separate  interest,  separate  right  shall  cease, 

Link'd  in  eternal  amity  and  peace. 

While  Concord  blesses  with  celestial  smiles 

The  Favoured  Empire  of  the  British  Isles. 

A  prolific  and  banal  versifier,  Pye  was  also  but  a  poor 
dramatist.  Not  forgetful  that  previous  Laureates  had 
won  renown  on  the  stage,  he  must  needs  emulate  their 
example.  In  1794  he  came  before  the  public  with  The 
Siege  of  Meaux,  a  three-act  historical  tragedy,  which  met 
with  a  most  tragical  fate,  being  acted  only  four  times 
at  Covent  Garden,  and  then  sinking  into  oblivion.  Six 
years  elapsed  before  Pye  again  ventured  to  win  the 
applause  of  the  theatre.  In  1800  Adelaide,  a  tragedy 
based  on  Lyttelton's  Henry  II,  was  performed  at  Drury 
Lane,  but  even  Kemble  as  Prince  Richard,  and  Mrs, 
Siddons  as  the  heroine,  could  not  save  it  from  immediate 
extinction. 

Pye  had  a  dauntless  heart.  Tragedy  having  failed, 
he  would  try  comedy.  Accordingly,  he  brought  out  at 
Drury  Lane,  in  1805,  a  piece  entitled  A  Prior  Claim,  in 


214  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

which  he  had  had  some  assistance  from  his  son-in-law, 
Samuel  James  Arnold,  but  again  the  attempt  to  become 
a  popular  pla3^wright  was  foiled.  He  had  also  a  hand 
in  adapting  a  German  play,  Diego  und  Leonor,  for  the 
English  stage,  but,  though  printed,  it  was  never  per- 
formed, having  been  anticipated  by  another  version  by 
Holcroft. 

Unlike  some  of  his  predecessors  in  the  Laureateship, 
Pye  mercifullj^  refrained  from  doing  violence  to  Shake- 
speare's plays,  a  circumstance  all  the  more  inexplicable 
when  it  is  remembered  that  towards  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  Shakespearian  revival,  thanks 
to  the  enlightened  acting  of  Garrick,  was  making  steady 
progress.  So  great,  indeed,  was  the  enthusiasm  for  the 
works  of  Shakespeare  at  this  time,  that  Samuel  Ireland 
thought  he  might  benefit  his  pocket  by  perpetrating 
several  impudent  forgeries.  The  most  notorious  of 
these  was  his  ascription  to  the  great  dramatist  of  an 
historical  play  entitled,  Vortigern,  which  was  produced 
by  Sheridan  at  Drury  Lane  in  1796.  Many  acute  critics 
believed  Ireland's  story,  and  Pye  obliged  by  writing  a 
prologue.  This,  however,  expressed  doubts  as  to  the 
authenticity  of  the  play,  and  Ireland  deemed  it  prudent 
to  substitute  another  prologue  by  Sir  James  Bland 
B  urges,  which  boldly  proclaimed  Vortigern  a  Shake- 
spearian play.  Happily,  even  that  credulous  age  could 
not  be  deceived,  and  before  many  weeks  had  passed, 
Ireland  was  compelled  to  make  full  confession  of  his 
imposture. 

Pye  could  not,  however,  resist  the  temptation  of 
entering  the  Shakespearian  fray  ;  but,  instead  of  emascu- 
lating the  dramatist's  works,  he  contented  himself  with 
criticising  his  genius  and  writings,  and  belabouring  his 
editors,  notably  Malone  and  Steevens.  This  he  did  in  a 
work  entitled  Comments  on  the  Commentators  of  Shakespeare 


HENRY   JAMES   PYE  215 

(1807),  which  may  well  be  classified  as  a  literary 
curiosity.  The  volume  extends  to  between  three  and 
four  hundred  pages,  and  the  author  declares  his  full 
mind  regarding  Shakespearian  criticism.  In  language 
none  too  choice,  he  ridicules  rather  than  comments  on 
the  labours  of  the  commentators  who  err  in  attempting 
"  to  say  everything  they  can  say,  not  only  on  the 
passage  commented  on,  but  on  everything  that  has  been 
said  in  the  comment."  But  when  one  reads  Pye's 
exordium  on  the  genius  and  writings  of  Shakespeare, 
it  is  impossible  to  evade  the  conclusion  that  he  himself 
is  a  most  indifferent  commentator. 

It  is,  indeed,  interesting  to  learn  that  Pye  found 
Shakespeare's  plays  "  a  favourite  amusement  "  in  his 
leisure  hours.  But  the  eulogistic  note  is  speedily 
silenced,  and  we  are  confronted  with  the  opinion  that 
the  dramatist  "  does  not  possess  the  power  of  Otway 
and  many  inferior  poets  of  exciting  pity,  and  that  he 
is  notoriously  very  careless  as  to  the  unities  and 
probabilities."  He,  however,  magnanimously  admits 
that  Shakespeare  is  unequalled  in  the  terrific  and  the 
sublime,  though  he  "  sometimes  swells  his  sublime  to 
the  bombast."  Pye  ought  certainly  to  have  been  a 
good  judge  of  bombast.  The  Comments  is  altogether 
a  ridiculous  book,  but  it  is  consoling  to  remember 
that  its  author  chose  rather  to  attack  Shakespearian 
commentators  than  to  "  improve  "  the  plays. 

Among  other  literary  tasks  essayed  by  the  indefatig- 
able Pye  was  the  writing  of  two  two-volume  novels, 
entitled  respectively,  The  Democrat  (1795)  and  The 
Aristocrat  (1799).  Though  "  interspersed  with  anecdotes 
of  well-known  characters,"  these  works  fell  dead-born 
from  the  press.  In  1795  he  published  a  translation  of 
Biirger's  Leonore,  a  work  which,  it  is  interesting  to 
recall,  Scott  also  translated  about  the  same  time.     He 


216  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

also  revised  Francis's  Odes  of  Horace  (1812)  ;  edited  and 
annotated  Sir  James  Bland  Burges's  Richard  I ;  and 
improved  and  enlarged  The  Sportsman's  Dictionary, 
"  containing  instructions  for  various  methods  to  be 
observed  in  riding,  hunting,  fowling,  setting,  fishing, 
racing,  farriery,  hawking,  breeding,  and  feeding  horses 
for  the  road  and  turf ;  the  management  of  dogs,  game 
and  dung-hill  cocks,  turkeys,  geese,  ducks,  doves,  singing- 
birds,  etc.  ;  and  the  manner  of  curing  their  various 
diseases  and  accidents."  A  fifth  edition  of  this  work 
was  published  in  1807. 

Shortly  before  his  death,  the  literary  world  was 
startled  by  the  announcement  that  an  edition  of  Pye's 
select  writings  in  six  volumes  was  being  projected.  The 
task  of  extracting  gold  from  so  much  dross  would 
assuredly  have  been  a  formidable  one.  But  literature 
was  saved  from  so  dire  a  calamity  by  the  death  of  the 
Laureate  at  Pinner  in  1813. 

Few  materials  exist  from  which  to  construct  a  portrait 
of  Pye.  From  the  writings  of  his  contemporaries  very 
little  that  is  helpful  is  to  be  gleaned.  Indeed,  the  facts 
regarding  his  personal  history  are  so  scanty,  that  one 
must  rely  on  inference  rather  than  on  positive  statement. 
This  much,  however,  seems  clear,  that  he  was  a  man 
of  some  force  of  character.  He  had  no  striking  per- 
sonality, but  he  was  upright,  conscientious,  economical, 
and  hard-working.  As  we  have  seen,  he  courageously 
strove  to  clear  off  his  father's  enormous  debts  ;  and 
when  the  world  used  him  harshly,  he  did  not  become 
cynical,  but  applied  himself  with  renewed  ardour. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  he  was  possessed  of  the  lust 
of  revenge.  Tornados  of  scorn  and  abuse  were  frequently 
his  lot,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  he  ever  resorted  to 
questionable  means  of  reprisal.  He  was  a  man  of  pubhc 
spirit.     Inured  to,  and  enamoured  of,  a  fox-hunting  life, 


HENRY   JAMES   PYE  217 

he  yet  never  shirked  the  duties  of  a  landed  proprietor. 
He  was  twice  married,  and  was  the  father  of  three 
daughters  and  one  son. 

"  None  can  deny,"  writes  a  contemporary,  that  "  Pye 
is  generally  the  elegant  scholar,  the  man  of  taste  and 
fancy,  and  the  writer  of  polished  versification  ;  while 
the  great  interests  of  virtue  and  public  spirit  have  uni- 
formly been  countenanced  by  his  pen."  ^  That  the 
moral  tone  of  Pye's  writings  is  distinctly  higher  than 
that  of  his  predecessors  is  beyond  dispute  ;  but  who 
nowadays  has  the  hardihood  to  say  that  Pye  was  a  poet, 
or  a  scholar,  or  a  man  of  taste  ?  "I  have  been  rhyming 
as  doggedly  and  dully  as  if  my  name  had  been  Henry 
James  Pye,"  wrote  Southey  to  a  friend.  ^  There  you 
have  this  Laureate's  poetical  character  in  a  nutshell. 
He  was  a  rhymer  whose  dullness  was  onlj^  exceeded  by 
his  doggedness. 

With  his  death  there  closed  a  long  and  inglorious 
chapter  in  the  history  of  the  Laureateship.  The 
intrinsic  badness  of  his  poetry  made  it  clear  to  the 
merest  literary  hack  that  one  of  two  things  would 
happen.  Either  the  office  would  be  abolished,  or 
future  Laureates  would  be  men  capable  of  investing  it 
with  literary  respectability.     There  could  he  no  more  Pyes. 

1   Gentleman's  Magazine,    1813.     Pt.   II,  294. 
*   Correspondence,  iv,  99. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

ROBERT   SOUTHEY 

No  sooner  was  Pye's  death  known,  than  almost  frantic 
efforts  were  made  to  appoint  a  successor  in  the  Laureate- 
ship.  The  reason  for  such  indecent  haste  is  a  Uttle 
obscure  ;  but  if  the  object  was  to  preclude  all  possi- 
bility of  the  bestowal  of  the  laurel  on  another  poetaster 
by  a  prompt  offer  to  a  poet  of  assured  reputation,  it 
may  well  have  been  laudable,  Pye's  death  occurred  on 
11th  August,  1813,  and  in  less  than  a  week  overtures, 
which  had  the  approval  of  the  Prince  Regent,  were  made 
to  Walter  Scott.  This  appears  evident  from  a  letter 
addressed  to  the  poet  by  Dr.  James  Stanier  Clarke, 
librarian  to  his  Royal  Highness.  Clarke,  who  had  sent 
Scott  copies  of  his  publications,  which  had  elicited  "  very 
kind  and  flattering  messages,"  wished  the  Laureateship 
conferred  on  the  author  of  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 
On  18th  August,  exactly  a  week  after  Pye's  death,  he 
acquainted  the  Prince  Regent  with  his  "  earnest  wish 
and  anxious  desire,"  and  was  agreeably  surprised  to 
learn  that  Scott  had  already  been  offered  the  post. 
The  same  day  Clarke  wrote  offering  his  congratulations, 
and  expressing  sincere  pleasure  that  "  those  sentiments 
of  high  approbation  which  my  Royal  Master  had  so 
often  expressed  to  you  in  private,  were  now  so  openly 
and  honourably  displayed  in  public." 

Scott  felt  strongly  that  the  Laureateship  was  a 
"  ridiculous  "  office,  but  the  financial  straits  in  which 
he  then  was  almost  impelled  him  to  accept.  He  had, 
however,  absurdly  over-rated  the  emoluments  when  he 
declared  to  James  Ballantyne  that  "  £300  or  £400  a-year 

218 


ROBERT    SOUTHEY 
From  the  engraving  by  John  Opie 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  219 

is  not  to  be  sneezed  at  upon  a  point  of  poetical  honour."  ^ 
Nevertheless,  he  thought  it  prudent,  before  taking  action, 
to  consult  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch.  In  a  letter  to  his 
noble  friend,  he  expressed  himself  as  much  embarrassed 
by  the  offer.  "  I  am,  on  the  one  hand,  afraid  of  giving 
offence  where  no  one  would  willingly  offend,  and  perhaps 
losing  an  opportunity  of  smoothing  the  way  to  my 
youngsters  through  life  ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  office 
is  a  ridiculous  one."  But  Scott's  feeling  of  reluctance 
lay  deeper,  and  was  characteristic.  He  did  not  wish 
to  appear  "  as  engrossing  a  petty  emolument  which 
might  do  real  service  to  some  poorer  brother  of  the 
Muses."  2 

But,  however  much  Scott  might  halt  between  two 
opinions,  there  was  no  hesitancy  about  the  Duke.  The 
post  must  be  declined.  "  Walter  Scott,  Poet  Laureate, 
ceases  to  be  the  Walter  Scott  of  the  Lay,  Marmion,  etc. 
.  .  .  The  poet  laureate  would  stick  to  you  and  your 
productions  like  a  piece  of  court  plaster.  .  .  .  Only 
think  of  being  chaunted  and  recitatived  by  a  parcel  of 
hoarse  and  squeaking  choristers  on  a  birthday,  for  the 
edification  of  the  bishops,  pages,  maids  of  honour,  and 
gentlemen-pensioners  !     Oh  horrible  !  thrice  horrible  !  "* 

A  few  days  after  the  receipt  of  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch's 
letter,  Scott  received  a  formal  offer  of  the  Laureateship 
from  the  Marquis  of  Hertford,  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 
But  by  this  time,  thanks  to  the  strongly-worded  letter 
of  the  Duke  and  his  own  inclinations,  Scott  had  deter- 
mined that  he  should  not  become  Court  poet.  This 
decision  he  courteously  conveyed  in  a  letter  to  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  dated  Abbotsford,  4th  September.  He 
felt  himself  "  inadequate  to  the  fitting  discharge  of  the 

1  Lockhart's  Sco«,  Edinburgh  ed,,  iv,  88. 
*  Ibid..  IV,  90. 
»  Tbid  .  iv,  93. 


220  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

regularly  recurring  duty  of  periodical  composition."  ^ 
Moreover,  he  held  two  official  situations  in  the  line  of 
his  profession,  and  as  these  afforded  a  "  respectable 
income,"  it  would  ill  become  him  to  accept  "  one  of  the 
few  appointments  which  seem  specially  adapted  for  the 
provision  of  those  whose  lives  have  been  dedicated 
exclusively  to  literature,  and  who  too  often  derive  from 
their  labours  more  credit  than  emolument."* 

Having  declined  the  Laureateship  for  himself,  Scott 
immediately  began  negotiations  with  a  view  to  securing 
it  for  Robert  Southey.  Between  the  two  poets  there 
existed  a  warm  friendship  based  on  kindred  literary 
tastes  and  political  opinions.  When  the  Quarterly 
Review  was  started,  Scott  persuaded  Southey  to  con- 
tribute, and  thus  was  forged  a  connection  with  the  great 
Tory  organ  which  lasted  for  thirty  years,  and  was  pro- 
ductive of  no  fewer  than  ninety-three  articles.  Again, 
when  the  post  of  Historiographer  Royal  became  vacant 
early  in  the  nineteenth  century,  Scott  exerted  all  his 
influence  in  favour  of  Southey 's  appointment,  though 
unsuccessfully. 

Now,  the  Laureateship  was  vacant,  and  he  was  again 
resolved  to  use  his  good  offices  on  behalf  of  his  friend. 
Accordingly,  on  the  day  on  which  he  dispatched  his 
letter  to  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  Scott  wrote  another  to 
Southey,  acquainting  him  with  the  fact  that  he  was 
trying  to  throw  the  office  into  his  option,  and  had  given 
the  hint  to  Croker,  who  was  then  Secretary  to  the 
Admiralty.  "  I  am  uncertain  if  you  will  like  it,  for  the 
laurel  has  certainly  been  tarnished  by  some  of  its 
wearers,  and  as  at  present  managed,  its  duties  are  incon- 
venient and  somewhat  liable  to  ridicule.  But  the  latter 
might    be   amended,    as    I    think    the    Regent's    good 

'  Lockhart's  Scutt.  Edinburgh  ed.,  iv,  96. 
*  Ibid.,  iv,  96. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  221 

sense    would    lead    him    to    lay     aside    these     regular 
commemorations . "  ^ 

Scott's  letter  reached  Southey  while  he  was  on  a  visit 
to  London.  No  thought  of  the  Laureateship  had  crossed 
his  mind,  nor  had  he  ever  dreamt  that  it  would  be  pro- 
posed to  him.  His  first  impulse,  in  the  event  of  his 
being  offered  the  post,  was  to  decline  it,  not  from  fear 
of  ridicule,  still  less  of  obloquy,  but  because  he  had 
ceased  for  several  years  to  write  occasional  verses. 
"  Though  willing  as  a  bee  to  work  from  mom  till  night 
in  collecting  honey,  I  had,"  he  wrote,  "  a  great  dislike 
to  spinning  like  a  spider."  But  on  further  reflection, 
these  scruples  were  overcome,  and  he  wrote  to  Croker 
that  he  was  willing  to  accept  the  Laureateship  on  terms. 
These  were  that  he  should  not  be  expected  to  "  write 
odes  as  boys  write  exercises  at  stated  times  and  upon 
stated  subjects,"^  and  that  as  regards  national  events, 
he  should  be  allowed  to  write  or  be  silent  as  the  spirit 
moved. 

The  Tory  Croker,  whom  Macaulay  detested  "  more 
than  cold  boiled  veal,"  always  willing  to  do  a  service  for 
a  fellow-contributor  to  the  Quarterly  Review,  had  by 
this  time  spoken  to  the  Prince  Regent,  and  had  virtually 
obtained  a  promise  that  the  Laureateship  would  be 
bestowed  on  Southey,  his  Royal  Highness  having  observed 
that  the  poet  had  written  "  some  good  things  in  favour 
of  the  Spaniards."  A  day  or  two  later,  Southey  called 
on  Croker,  when  the  latter  urged  him  to  write  a  New 
Year  ode,  informing  the  poet  at  the  same  time  that  he 
would  in  due  course  acquaint  the  Prince  Regent  with 
the  conditions  on  which  he  would  accept  the  Laureateship. 

With  this  rather  dubious  capitulation  to  his  demands, 
Southey  seems  to  have  been  content.     On  27th  September, 

'  Lockhart's  Scott,  Edinburgh  ed.,  iv,  102. 
*  Life  and  Correspondent ce,  iv,  40. 


222  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

in  a  low,  dark  room  in  the  purlieus  of  St.  James's, 
"  a  good  old  gentleman  usher,  a  worthy  sort  of  fat,  old 
man  in  a  wig  and  bag  and  a  snuff-coloured  full  dress 
suit,  %vith  cut  steel  buttons  and  a  sword,"  ^  administered 
the  oath  to  the  new  Laureate,  who  swore  to  be  a  faithful 
servant  to  the  King,  to  reveal  all  treasons  which  might 
come  to  his  knowledge,  and  to  obey  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain in  all  matters  of  the  King's  service.  On  his  way 
home  from  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  office,  the  elated 
Laureate  went  into  St.  James's  Park,  and  there  indited 
the  following  poetical  epistle  to  his  wife — 

I  have  something  to  tell  you,  which  you  will  not  be  sorry  at, 

'Tis  that  I  am  sworn  in  to  the  ofhce  of  Laureat. 

The  oath  that  I  took  there  could  be  nothing  wrong  in, 

'Twas  to  do  all  the  duties  to  the  dignity  belonging. 

Keep  this,  1  pray  you,  as  a  precious  gem, 

For  this  is  the  Laureat's  first  poem. 

On  5th  November,  Southey  wrote  a  grateful  letter  to 
Scott,  in  which  he  pointed  out  that,  although  the  whole 
net  income  was  little  more  or  less  than  £90  (a  fact  which 
must  have  staggered  Scott,  who  had  quadrupled  this 
amount),  it  came  to  him  as  a  godsend.  "  I  have  vested 
it  in  a  life-policy  ;  by  making  it  up  to  £102,  it  covers 
an  insurance  for  £3,000  upon  my  own  life."  And  he 
concludes  :  "It  is  with  the  deepest  feeling  of  thanks- 
giving that  I  have  secured  this  legacy  for  my  wife  and 
children,  and  it  is  to  you  that  I  am  primarily  and  chiefly 
indebted."  ^  Scott  hastened  to  tender  his  congratulations  : 
"  I  do  not  delay,  my  Dear  Southey,  to  say  my  gratulor. 
Long  may  you  live,  as  Paddy  says,  to  rule  over  us,  and 
to  redeem  the  crown  of  Spenser  and  of  Dryden  to  its 
pristine  dignity.  I  am  only  discontented  with  the 
extent  of  your  royal  revenue,  which  I  thought  had  been 
£400,  or  £300  at  the  very  least."  ^ 

1  Southey's  Life  and  Correspondence,  iv,  49. 

»  Ibid.,  iv.  49. 

'  Lockhart's  Scott,  Edinburgh  ed.  iv,  103. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  223 

Hardly  had  Southey  been  installed,  when  his  troubles 
began.  Either  Croker  forgot  to  acquaint  the  Prince 
Regent  that  he  had  only  accepted  the  Laureateship  on 
condition  that  he  was  relieved  of  the  drudgery  of  writing 
regularly  official  odes,  or,  if  he  did  so,  his  Royal  High- 
ness declined  to  consent  to  the  terms.  During  the  pro- 
tracted malady  of  George  HI,  the  Birthday  ode  was 
naturally  uncalled  for,  but  the  New  Year  ode  had  still 
to  be  furnished.  Consequently,  Southey  soon  learned 
that  journeyman  work  would  be  expected  from  him  as 
it  had  been  expected  from  Pye.  "  My  appointment," 
he  wrote,  "  had  no  sooner  been  made  known,  than  I 
received  a  note  with  Sir  WiUiam  Parsons's  (the  Court 
musician)  compliments,  requesting  that  I  would  let  him 
have  the  ode  as  soon  as  possible,  Mr.  Pye  having  always 
provided  him  with  it  six  weeks  before  New  Year's  Day." 
Southey's  soul  rebelled  against  the  idea  of  "  poetry  made 
to  order,"  but  it  was  too  late  to  protest.  There  was  no 
alternative  but  to  settle  to  the  task  of  writing  his  first 
official  ode.  He  did  not  fail  in  punctuality,  but  the  fact 
that  he  did  not  write  in  regular  stanzas  and  in  rhyme 
as  Mr.  Pye  had  done,  greatly  worried  Sir  William  Parsons, 
who  found  Southey's  irregular  verse  very  difficult  to  set 
to  music. 

For  some  years  the  new  Laureate  stuck  manfully  to 
what  he  called  his  "  odeons  "  job,  and  annually  incurred  the 
displeasure  of  Parsons  because  of  his  "  slovenly  "  poetry. 
But  the  regular  composition  of  odes  went  sorely  against 
the  grain,  and  caused  Southey  considerable  irritation. 
On  30th  December,  1814,  he  writes  :  "  Another  dogged 
fit  will,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  carry  me  through  the  job  ;  and 
as  the  Ode  will  be  very  much  according  to  rule,  and 
entirely  good-for-nothing,  I  presume  it  may  be  found 
unobjectionable.  Meanwhile  the  poor  Mus.  Doc.  has 
the  old  poem  to  mumble  over.  ...     It  is  really  my 


224  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

wish  to  use  all  imaginable  civility  to  the  Mus.  Doc,  and 
yet  I  dare  say  he  thinks  me  a  troublesome  fellow  as  well 
as  an  odd  one."  ^ 

Again,  on  4th  February,  1816  :  "I  have  not  been 
well  used  about  the  Laureateship.  They  require  task 
verses  from  me — not  to  keep  up  the  custom  of  having 
them  befiddled,  but  to  keep  up  the  task — instead  of 
putting  an  end  to  this  foolery  in  a  fair  and  open  manner, 
which  would  do  the  Court  credit,  and  save  me  a  silly 
expense  of  time  and  trouble.  I  shall  complete  what  I 
have  begun  (ode  on  the  marriage  of  the  Princess 
Charlotte),  because  it  is  begun,  and  to  please  myself, 
not  to  obtain  favour  with  anybody  else,  but  when  these 
things  are  done,  if  they  continue  to  look  for  New  Year 
odes  from  the  Laureate,  they  shall  have  nothing  else."^ 

Southey  might  be  indignant,  but  the  Court  did  look 
for  the  annual  lucubrations  for  a  few  years  longer. 
So  late  as  1820,  he  was  still  finding  the  duties  of  the 
Laureateship  irksome.  Bitterly  he  remarked  that  next 
to  getting  rid  of  the  task  of  writing  "  stated  verses  at 
stated  times,"  the  best  thing  he  could  do  was  to  avoid 
publishing  them  except  when  he  felt  so  inclined. 
Gradually,  however,  the  yearly  ode  fell  into  abeyance, 
and  in  the  end  Southey  was  able  to  congratulate  himself 
upon  the  fact  that  during  the  greater  part  of  his  tenure 
of  the  office  he  had  been  permitted  to  follow  the  dictates 
of  his  poetic  fancy. 

At  the  outset,  Southey  was  at  least  fortunate  in  having 
a  number  of  topics  wherewith  worthily  to  engage  his  pen. 
In  the  year  1814  occurred  several  national  events  of  the 
first  importance.  Moreover,  it  was  the  year  in  which 
Napoleon  abdicated  and  retired  to  Elba,  leaving  Europe 
to  breathe  freely  for  a  brief  season.     Notwithstanding, 

'  Life  and  Correspondeitce,  iv,  99. 
2  Ibid.,  iv,  148. 


ROBERT   SOUTHEY  225 

however,  the  propitious  circumstances,  Southey's  first 
ode,  Carmen  Triumphale  (1814),  was  a  failure.  The 
poem,  which  in  its  printed  form  runs  to  no  fewer  than 
eighteen  stanzas,  is  at  once  an  "  exultant  hymn  for 
victory,"  and  a  trumpet  call  to  "  benignant  Heaven  to 
hasten  the  blessed  day  of  Peace."  As  originally  written, 
it  contained  many  scathing  references  to  the  tyrant. 
These,  however,  on  the  advice  of  Croker,  the  Laureate 
struck  out,  and  an  ode  dealing  with  the  most  absorbing 
topic  of  the  hour  was  rendered  unmteresting,  if  not 
absurd.  Southey  was  annoyed,  and  threatened  after- 
wards to  print  an  unexpurgated  version  of  his  poem  in 
order  to  show  that  it  was  not  a  "  libellous  offence  to  call 
murder  and  tyranny  by  their  proper  names,"  but  this 
was  never  done.  Here  are  the  first  two  stanzas,  which 
give  a  fair  idea  of  the  whole — 

In  happy  hour  doth  he  receive 
The  Laurel,  meed  of  famous  Bards  of  yore, 
"VSTiich  Dryden  and  diviner  Spenser  wore,   .   .  . 
In  happy  hour,  and  well  may  he  rejoice, 

Wliose  earliest  task  must  be 
To  raise  the  exultant  hymn  for  victory, 
And  join  a  nation's  joy  with  harp  and  voice. 
Pouring  the  strain  of  triumph  on  the  wind, 
Glory  to  God,  his  song,  DeHverance  for  Mankind  ! 

Wake,  lute  and  harp  I    My  soul  take  up  the  strain  ! 

Glory  to  God  !    Deliverance  for  Mankind  ! 
Joy  ...  for  all  Nations,  joy  !    But  most  for  thee, 

Who  hast  so  nobly  fiU'd  thy  part  assign'd, 

O  England  !    O  my  glorious  native  land  I 

For  thou  in  evil  days  didst  stand 
Against  leagued  Europe  all  in  arms  array'd, 

Single  and  undismay'd. 
Thy  hope  in  Heaven  and  in  thine  own  right  hand. 

Now  are  thy  virtuous  efforts  overpaid. 
Thy  generous  counsels  now  their  guerdon  find. 

Glory  to  God  !    Deliverance  for  Mankind  ! 

Southey,  in  deference  to  the  wishes  of  his  friends,  had 
refrained     from     alluding     to     Napoleon     in     Carmen 
IS— (2341) 


226  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Triumphale,  but  in  his  Ode  Written  During  the  Negotia- 
tions with  Buonaparte  (1814),  he  made  full  reparation 
for  the  omission.  The  poem  is  both  a  rebuke  and  a 
warning — a  rebuke  to  those  who  counsel  peace  when 
there  can  be  no  peace,  and  a  warning  to  those  who 
would  still  suffer  the  tyrant's  throne  to  stand.  In  the 
second  stanza  the  Laureate  works  himself  into  a  frenzy. 

Woe,  woe  to  England  I    woe  and  endless  shame, 
If  this  heroic  land, 
False  to  her  feelings  and  unspotted  fame, 
Hold  out  the  olive  to  the  Tyrant's  hand  ! 
Woe  to  the  world,  if  Buonaparte's  throne 

Be  suffer'd  still  to  stand  ! 
For  by  what  names  shall  Right  and  Wrong  be  known,  .  .  . 

What  new  and  courtly  phrases  must  we  feign 
For  Falsehood,  Murder,  and  all  monstrous  crimes. 
If  that  perfidious  Corsican  maintain 
Still  his  detested  reign, 
And  France,  who  yearns  even  now  to  break  her  chain. 
Beneath  his  iron  rule  be  left  to  groan  ? 
No  !    by  the  innumerable  dead. 
Whose  blood  hath  for  his  lust  of  power  been  shed, 

Death  only  can  for  his  foul  deeds  atone  ; 
That  peace  which  Death  and   Judgment  can  bestow. 
That   peace   be   Buonaparte's,   ....  that   alone  ! 

A  much  more  respectable  performance  is  the  Ode  Written 
During  the  War  with  America.  In  dignified  and  impas- 
sioned strains,  the  Laureate  pleads  for  Britain's  growi;h 
in  righteousness,  peace,  and  knowledge. 

When  shall  the  Island  Queen  of  Ocean  lay 

The  thunderbolt  aside. 
And,  twining  olives  with  her  laurel  crown. 

Rest  in  the  Bower  of  Peace  ? 

England  is  great,  but  she  might  be  greater — 

O  dear  England  I    powerful  as  thou  art. 

And  rich  and  wise  and  blest. 
Yet  would  I  see  thee,  O  my  Mother-land  ! 
Mightier   and   wealthier,   wiser,   happier  stili  I 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  227 

The  poet  laments  that  Ignorance  still  maintains  "  large 
empire  here,"  and  urges  that  wheresoever  her  churches 
stand,  there  England  will  plant  the  Tree  of  Knowledge. 
The  ode  ends  in  a  lofty  key — 

Train  up  thy  children,  England,  in  the  ways 
Of  righteousness,  and  feed  them  with  the  bread 
Of  wholesome  doctrine.     Send  thy  swarms  abroad  ! 
Send  forth  thy  humanising  arts, 

Thy  stirring  enterprise. 
Thy  liberal  polity,  thy  Gospel  light  ! 
Illumine  the  dark  idolater, 
Reclaim  the  savage  !    O  thou  Ocean  Queen  ! 
Be  these  thy  toils  when  thou  hast  laid 

The  thunderbolt  aside  : 
He  who  hath  blest  thine  arms 
Will  bless  thee  in  these  holy  works  of  Peace  ! 
Father  !    thy  kingdom  come,  and  as  in  Heaven 
Thy  will  be  done  on  Earth  ! 

Another  Laureate  effort  of  1814  was  Carmen  Aulica, 
which  commemorated  the  arrival  of  the  Allied 
Sovereigns  in  England.  It  consists  of  odes  on  the 
Prince  Regent,  Alexander  I  of  Russia,  and  William  IV 
of  Prussia,  Tedious  and  dithyrambic,  these  poems  did 
not  enhance  Southey's  reputation.  The  opening  lines 
of  the  ode  on  the  Prince  Regent  recall  the  bombast  of 
some  of  his  predecessors. 

Prince  of  the  mighty  Isle  ! 
Proud  day  for  thee  and  for  thy  kingdom  this, 

When  Britain  roimd  her  spear 
The  olive  garland  twines,  by  Victory  won. 

In  1816  appeared  Carmen  Nuptiale  :  The  Lay  of  the 
Laureate,  celebrating  the  marriage  of  the  Princess 
Charlotte  of  Wales  to  Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe-Coburg. 
An  interesting  history  attaches  to  this  poem.  In  1814 
the  Princess  became  engaged  to  Prince  William  of 
Orange,  and  Southey,  in  anticipation  of  the  marriage, 
began  an  epithalamium.  But  the  Laureate  was  a  little 
premature,    for,    when    Carmen.    Nuptiale    was    nearing 


228  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

completion,  the  Princess  suddenly  broke  off  the  engage- 
ment, and  he  found  his  work  in  vain.  The  poem,  how- 
ever, was  not  destroyed  :  it  actually  did  the  turn  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Princess's  marriage  to  Leopold  two  years 
later,  the  flattery  intended  for  Prince  William  being 
simply  transferred  to  Prince  Leopold.  The  poem  is 
absurdly  long,  being  in  three  parts,  the  epilogue 
concluding  with  the  verse  made  famous  by  Byron's 
satire — 

Go,  little  Book,  from  this  my  solitude, 
I  cast  thee  on  the  waters  ;  go  thy  ways  ! 

And  if,  as  I  believe,  thy  vein  be  good, 
The  World  will  find  thee  after  many  days. 

Be  it  with  thee  according  to  thy  worth. 

Go,  little  Book  I    in  faith  I  send  thee  forth. 

In  1817  the  Princess  Charlotte  died  in  child-birth, 
and  Southey,  who  had  so  recently  written  her  nuptial 
song,  was  called  upon  to  compose  her  elegy.  "  A  knell, 
heavy  yet  clear-toned,  is  tolled,"  says  Professor  Dowden, 
' '  by  its  finely  wrought  octosyllabics. ' '  ^  The  poem  begins — 

In  its  summer  pride  array'd 

Low  our  Tree  of  Hope  is  laid  ! 

Low  it  lies  ...  in  evil  hour, 

Visiting  the  bridal  bower. 

Death  hath  levell'd  root  and  flower. 

Windsor,  in  thy  sacred  shade, 

(This  the  end  of  pomp  and   power  1) 
Have  the  rites  of  death  been  paid  : 
Windsor,  in  thy  sacred  shade 
Is  the  Flower  of  Brunswick  laid  ! 

In  the  following  year,  Southey  had  to  furnish  another 
funeral  ode  in  commemoration  of  Queen  Charlotte,  who 
married  George  III  in  1761,  and  bore  him  no  fewer  than 
fifteen  children.  There  is  little  music  in  the  poem,  but 
ample  justice  is  done  to  the  Queen's  maternal  virtues. 

•   Life  of  Southey,  p.  161. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  229 

Death  has  gone  up  into  our  Palaces  ! 
The  light  of  day  once  more 
Hath  visited  the  last  abode 

Of  mortal  royalty, 
The  dark  and  silent  vault. 

All  that  our  fathers  in  their  prayers  desired, 
When  first  their  chosen  Queen 
Set  on  our  shores  her  happy  feet, 

All  by  indulgent  Heaven 
Had  largely  been  vouchsafed. 

At  Court  the  Household  Virtues  had  their  place  • 
Domestic  Purity 
Maintain'd  her  proper  influence  there  : 

The  marriage  bed  was  blest. 
And  length  of  days  was  given. 

Long,   long  then    shall   Queen   Charlotte's   name 
be   dear  ; 
And  future  Queens  to  her 
As  to  their  best  exemplar  look  ; 

Who  imitates  her  best 
May  best  deserve  our  love. 

Tranquillity  and  ease  were  hardly  ever  the  lot  of  the 
Georgian  laureates.  Their  lives,  for  the  most  part,  were 
spent  in  contending  with  enemies  without,  and  in  con- 
ciliating friends  within.  Southey  was  no  exception. 
The  opening  years  of  his  long  reign  as  Poet  Laureate 
were  embittered  by  the  piratical  publication  in  1817  of 
his  early  revolutionary  drama,  Wat  Tyler,  and  by  his 
quarrel  with  Byron. 

The  resurrection  of  Wat  Tyler,  which  Southey  vainly 
thought  was  buried  fathoms  deep  in  oblivion,  was  an 
unwelcome  reminder  that  he  who  was  now  a  royal  poet, 
a  champion  of  privilege,  and  a  firm  supporter  of  the 
Church  as  by  law  estabHshed,  was  once  an  ardent 
Republican,  an  apostle  of  freedom  and  equality,  and  a 
Deist.  Southey,  it  is  true,  asserted  that  he  was  "  no 
more  ashamed  of  having  been  a   Republican,   than  of 


230  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

having  been  a  boy  before  he  was  a  man."  It  has  also 
been  said  with  truth  that  the  evolution  of  Southey's 
views  did  not  differ  substantially  from  that  traceable  in 
the  cases  of  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge.  Nevertheless, 
the  world  has  always  looked  askance,  and  rightly  so,  at 
the  sincerity  of  those  whose  change  of  opinion  coincides 
with  an  accession  of  power  and  prosperity. 

Southey's  case  was  certainly  open  to  grave  suspicion. 
Immediately  after  a  political  conversion  so  thorough  as 
to  make  him  champion  a  government  which  he  formerly 
abhorred,  he  became  secretary  to  the  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  for  Ireland  with  a  salary  of  £350  a  year,  the 
duties  being  by  no  means  onerous.  Then,  he  joined  the 
staff  of  the  Tory  Quarterly,  and,  as  if  to  show  how  com- 
pletely he  had  divested  himself  of  the  democratic  prin- 
ciples of  his  earlier  years,  he  wrote  violently  in  favour  of 
measures  which  were  not  only  diametrically  opposed  to 
his  former  political  creed,  but  were  in  some  cases  sub- 
versive of  law  and  order.  He  was  opposed  to  freedom 
of  political  speech,  he  advocated  the  suspension  of  the 
Habeas  Corpus  Act,  he  was  in  favour  of  the  most  repres- 
sive measures  in  the  case  of  political  reformers,  and  he 
viewed  civil  war  rather  than  the  slightest  concession  to 
the  Whigs  as  the  least  of  two  evils. 

It  was  no  doubt  most  embarrassing  to  Southey  to  be 
reminded  of  the  measure  of  his  political  apostasy  when 
he  was  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  royal  favour  ;  but  he 
could  hardly  complain.  The  drama  which  he  trembled 
to  publish  in  1794  because  of  its  denunciation  of 
monarchy — of  the  man 

In  the  blood-purpled  robes  of  royalty, 
Feasting  at  ease,    and   lording  over   millions,  ^ 

his  enemies  published  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets  in  1817, 

'  Act  ii,  scene  i. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  231 

a    copy    being    addressed    to    "  Robert    Southe}',    Poet 
Laureate  and  Renegade." 

The  discomfited  Laureate  sought  an  injunction  to 
restrain  the  publication  of  Wat  Tyler,  but  Lord  Eldon 
refused  it  on  the  ground  that  "  a  person  cannot  recover 
damages  upon  a  work  which  in  its  nature  is  calculated 
to  do  injury  to  the  public."  This  decision  had  no  other 
result  than  to  increase  interest  in  a  literary  effort  of 
Southey's  wayward  youth,  which  he  wovdd  have  given 
much  to  suppress.  Sixty  thousand  copies  of  the 
obnoxious  drama  are  said  to  have  been  sold. 

Nor  was  this  all.  The  attention  of  Parliament  was 
drawn  to  the  matter,  and  Lord  Brougham  and  Mr. 
William  Smith,  M.P.  for  Norwich,  called  for  the  pro- 
secution of  the  Laureate.  Southey  smarted  severely' 
under  this  attack,  though  he  tried  to  convey  the  impres- 
sion that  he  was  not  ruffled  in  the  slightest,  and  that  he 
would  not  have  taken  any  notice  of  the  matter  had  it 
not  been  that  his  wife  was  perturbed.  Scott  charac- 
terised Southey's  Letter  to  William  Smith,  Esq.,  M.P., 
as  a  "  triumphant  answer  "  ;  but  it  is  dignified  rather 
than  convincing.  There  is  something  Pharasaical  about 
the  way  in  which  Southey  asserts  his  flawless  rectitude. 
Whatever  his  contemporaries  may  say,  posterity  will 
do  him  justice.  "  It  will  be  said  of  him,  that  in  an  age 
of  personality  he  abstained  from  satire  ;  and  that  during 
the  course  of  his  literary  life,  often  as  he  was  assailed, 
the  only  occasion  on  which  he  ever  condescended  to 
reply,  was  when  a  certain  Mr.  William  Smith  insulted 
him  in  Parliament  with  the  appellation  of  renegade. 
On  that  occasion,  it  will  be  said,  he  vindicated  himself, 
as  it  became  him  to  do,  and  treated  his  calumniator  with 
just  and  memorable  severity."  Posterity,  however,  has 
never  quite  decided  that  Southey's  was  a  case  of  injured 
innocence,  nor  that  Mr.  William  Smith,  in  contrasting 


232  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

the  seditious  demagogue  of  1794  with  the  poet  of  Royalty 
of  1817,  was  a  calumniator. 

The  other  memorable  episode  of  Southey's  Laureate- 
ship  was  his  quarrel  with  Byron.  The  two  poets  regarded 
each  other  with  the  unreasoning  hatred  of  those  who 
having  once  been  friends  are  now  enemies.  "  Is  Southey 
magnanimous  ?  ,"  i  Byron  is  reported  to  have  asked 
Samuel  Rogers  in  1813.  Having  received  an  affirmative 
reply,  he  went  to  Holland  House,  and  was  introduced 
to  Southey.  His  first  impressions  of  the  Poet  Laureate 
were  cordial.  "  The  best  looking  bard  I  have  seen  for 
some  time.  To  have  that  poet's  head  and  shoulders,  I 
would  almost  have  written  his  Sapphics.  He  is  certainly 
a  prepossessing  person  to  look  on,  and  a  man  of  talent. 
.  .  .  He  is  the  only  existing  entire  man  of  letters."^ 
Byron  adds  that  the  Laureate's  talents  are  of  the  first 
order,  and  that  there  are  passages  in  his  poetry  "  equal 
to  anything."  ^  Southey,  on  the  other  hand,  found  a 
great  deal  to  admire  in  Byron. 

But  there  came  a  chilling  frost.  Indeed,  it  could 
hardly  have  been  otherwise,  for  it  was  impossible  to 
expect  much  sympathy  between  the  moral,  law-abiding, 
and  ultra-monarchical  Southey,  and  so  thoroughgoing 
a  herald  of  revolt,  morally  and  politically,  as  Byron. 
Anyhow,  all  friendship  had  vanished  by  1819,  in  which 
year  Byron  published  the  first  two  cantos  of  Don  Juan. 
This  "  vast  satiric  medley "  not  only  contained  dis- 
paraging allusions  to  the  Laureate,  but  was  actually 
dedicated  to  him,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  preface 
was  suppressed  at  the  time  as  being  too  coarse  and  in- 
sulting. That  Byron  should  have  associated  the  virtuous 
Southey  with  the  most  outrS  of  his  poems  argued  an 

*  Southey's  Life  and  Correspondence,  iv,  44. 

'^  Byron's  Letters  and  Journals,  ed.  Prothero,  ii,    266 

»    Ibid.,  ii,  331. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  233 

enmity  of  no  ordinary  kind.  Judging  by  the  following 
stanzas,  the  quarrel  had  its  roots  in  Southey's  political 
somersaults,  though  probably  there  were  personal  reasons 
as  well — 

Bob  Southey  I    You're  a  poet — Poet  Laureate, 

And   representative  of  all  the  race  ; 
Although  'tis  true  that  you  turn'd  out  a  Tory  at 

Last, — yours  has  lately  been  a  common  case. 
And  now,  my  Epic  Renegade  I    what  are  ye  at  ? 

With  all  the  Lakers,  in  and  out  of  place  ? 
A  nest  of  tuneful  persons,  to  my  eye 
Like  four-and-twenty  Blackbirds  in  a  pie. 

You,  Bob  !    are  rather  insolent,  you  know. 

At  being  disappointed  in  your  wish 
To  supersede  all  warblers  here  below. 

And  be  the  only  blackbird  in  the  dish  ; 
And  then  you  overstrain  yourself,  or  so. 

And  tumble  downwards  like  the  flying  fish 
Gasping  on  deck,  because  you  soar  too  high.  Bob  ! 
And  fall,  for  lack  of  moisture,  quite  a-dry,  Bob  ! 

The  publication  in  1821  of  Southey's  Vision  of  Judg- 
ment served  only  to  fan  the  flames  of  Byron's  fury. 
The  conclusion  of  so  long  and  eventful  a  reign  as  that 
of  George  III,  the  Laureate  felt  was  an  occasion  meriting 
special  commemoration.  He,  therefore,  resolved  to 
realise  a  dream  of  his  youth — to  write  a  poem  in  English 
hexameters.  Adopting  his  leading  ideas  from  Dante's 
great  poem,  he  celebrates  the  ascension  of  George  III 
into  heaven  in  hexameters,  which,  says  Sir  Alfred  Lyall, 
are  "  incontestably  deplorable."  ^  The  Vision  of  Judg- 
ment is  as  impious  as  it  is  foolish,  the  poet  shadowing 
forth  the  Day  of  Judgment,  and  bestowing  political 
rewards  and  punishments,  the  supreme  standard  of 
rectitude  being  himself.  This  of  itself  was  sufficient  to 
excite  the  ire  of  a  Liberal  poet  Hke  Byron.  But  Southey 
went  further.  In  his  preface,  he  lamented  the  recent 
decline  of  the  ethical  spirit  in  English  literature,  which 

^  Life  of  Tennyson,  78. 


234  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

he  attributed  in  great  measure  to  the  leaders  of  the 
"  Satanic  School." 

Byron  needed  no  more  to  incite  him  to  write  a  satirical 
masterpiece.  Accordingly,  he  wrote  his  Vision  of  Judg- 
ment, which  completely  ousted  Southey's.  Indeed,  it  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  the  latter's  poem  survives  not 
by  reason  of  any  intrinsic  merit,  but  merely  because  of 
Byron's  biting  commentary  on  it.  Sir  Leslie  Stephen 
thought  the  later  Vision  of  Judgment  more  reverent  as 
well  as  more  witty  than  the  earlier,  an  opinion  which  will 
hardly  be  gainsaid.  Southey  is  brilliantly  parodied,  the 
sharp  rapier-like  thrusts  of  his  adversary  being  delivered 
with  much  of  the  skill  of  the  older  satirists. 

In  the  preface,  Southey  comes  in  for  a  trouncing 
which  might  well  make  him  wince.  Byron  cherishes  the 
hope  that  his  own  Vision  of  Judgment  may  be  as  good 
as  Southey's,  "  seeing  that  it  cannot,  by  any  species  of 
stupidity,  natural  or  acquired,  be  worse.  The  gross 
flattery,  the  dull  impudence,  the  renegado  intolerance, 
and  impious  cant,  of  the  poem  by  the  author  of  Wat 
Tyler,  are  something  so  stupendous  as  to  form  the 
sublime  of  himself — containing  the  quintessence  of  his 
own  attributes." 

Then  it  had  "  pleased  the  magnanimous  Laureate  to 
draw  a  picture  of  a  supposed  '  Satanic  school,'  "  but  surely 
he  was  "  sufficiently  armed  against  it  by  his  own  intense 
vanity,"  Byron  next  proceeds  to  ask  several  questions, 
the  pertinency  of  which  the  Laureate  must  have  admitted 
in  his  heart  of  hearts.  "  Firstly — Is  Mr.  Southey  the 
author  of  Wat  Tyler  ?  Secondly — Was  he  not  refused 
a  remedy  at  law  by  the  highest  judge  of  his  beloved 
England  because  it  was  a  blasphemous  and  seditious 
publication  ?  Thirdly — Was  he  not  entitled  by  William 
Smith,  in  Parliament,  '  a  rancorous  renegado  '  ?  Fourthly 
— Is  he  not  Poet  Laureate,  with  his  own  lines  on  Martin, 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  235 

the  regicide,  staring  him  in  the  face  ?  And  Fifthly — 
Putting  the  four  preceding  items  together,  with  what 
conscience  dare  he  call  the  attention  of  the  laws  to  the 
publications  of  others,  be  they  what  they  may  ?  " 
Byron's  parting  shot  is  reserved  for  the  supernatural 
element  in  Southey's  poem.  "  The  way  in  which  that 
poor,  insane  creature,  the  Laureate,  deals  about  his 
judgments  in  the  next  world  is  like  his  own  judgment 
in  this.  If  it  was  not  completely  ludicrous,  it  would  be 
something  worse." 

In  his  Vision  of  Judgment,  Byron  simply  marshals 
the  facts  of  Southey's  career,  but  with  magnificent 
effect. 

He  had  written  praises  of  a  regicide  ; 

He  had  written  praises  of  all  kings  whatever  ; 
He  had  Avritten  for  republics  far  and  wide. 

And  then  against  them  bitterer  than  ever. 
For  Pantisocracy  he  once  had  cried 

Aloud,  a  scheme  less  moral  than  'twas  clever  ; 
Then  grew  a  hearty  anti- Jacobin — 
Had  turn'd  his  coat — and  would  have  turn'd  his  skin. 

He  had  sung  against  all  battles,  and  again 
In  their  high  praise  and  glory  ;  he  had  call'd 

Reviewing  "  the  ungentle  craft  "  ;  and  then 
Become  as  base  a  critic  as  e'er  crawl'd — 

Fed,  paid,  and  pamper'd  by  the  very  men 

By  whom  his  muse  and  morals  had  been  maul'd  : 

He  had  written  much  blank  verse,  and  blanker  prose, 

And  more  of  both  than  anybody  knows. 

Southey  was  not  easily  provoked,  but  for  once  he  lost 
control  of  himself,  and  wrote  a  savage  reply  which 
Byron,  then  residing  at  Pisa,  regarded  as  so  personal 
that  he  challenged  the  Laureate  to  a  duel.  The  chal- 
lenge, however,  was  not  delivered  to  Southey,  and  the 
world  was  spared  the  spectacle  of  seeing  two  of  the 
foremost  English  poets  in  deadly  combat. 


236  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

There    were    many,    however,    who    echoed    Byron's 
prayer — 

Oh   Southey  !     Southey  !     cease   thy   varied   song, 
A  Bard  may  chant  too  often  and  too  long  : 
As  thou  art  strong  in  verse,  in  mercy  spare  ! 

But  the  Poet  Laureate  went  on  versifying,  though,  with 
the  passing  of  the  years,  official  odes  were  not  demanded 
with  the  same  frequency  as  formerly.  Gradually  the 
Birthday  poem  went  out  of  fashion,  much  to  the  satis- 
faction of  Southey,  but  the  time  for  this  was  not  yet. 
Upon  the  accession  of  George  IV,  the  Laureate  composed 
an  ode  for  St.  George's  Day,  which  was  set  to  music. 
It  is  a  florid  production,  but  calculated  to  stir  the  blood 
and  fire  the  imagination.      The  last  stanza  is  as  follows — 

That  cryi  in  many  a  field  of  Fame 
Through  glorious  ages  held  its  high  renown  ; 
Nor  less  hath  Britain  proved  the  sacred  name 

Auspicious  to  her  crown. 
Troubled  too  oft  her  course  of  fortune  ran, 
Till  when  the  Georges  came 
Her  happiest  age  began. 
Beneath  their  just  and  liberal  swa}', 
Old  feuds  and  factions  died  away  ; 
One   feeling  through  her  realms  was   known. 
One  interest  of  the  Nation  and  the  Throne. 
Ring,  then,  ye  bells  upon  St.  George's  Day, 
From  every  tower  in  glad  accordance  ring  ; 
And  let  all  instruments  full,  strong,  or  sweet, 

With  touch  of  modulated  string. 
And  soft  or  swelling  breath,  and  sonorous  beat. 

The  happy  name  repeat, 
While  heart  and  voice  their  joyous  tribute  bring 
And  speak  the  People's  love  for  George  their  King. 

The  Kmg's  visits  to  Ireland  in  1821,  and  to  Scotland 

in    1822,    were   also   poetically   celebrated.     As   regards 

Ireland,  Southey  poses  as  a  strong  Unionist — 

Shall   I  then  imprecate 
A  curse  on  them  that  would  divide 
Our  union  ? 

*  "St.  George,  St.  George  for  England  I     St.  George  and  Victory  I  " 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY  237 

During  the  later  years  of  the  reign  of  George  IV,  and 
the  whole  of  that  of  William  IV,  the  Laureateship 
suffered  temporary  eclipse.  The  custom  of  composing 
annual  eulogies  of  the  reigning  monarch  had  fallen  into 
desuetude.  Neither  George  nor  William  cared  much  for 
poetry,  which  determined  the  Laureate  not  to  exercise 
his  poetical  gift  on  behalf  of  the  Court  too  often.  The 
ofhce  became,  therefore,  but  a  shadow  of  its  former  self  ; 
and  during  the  last  period  of  Southey's  life,  when  he 
was  devoting  almost  all  his  strength  to  prose  writing, 
it  was  practically  a  sinecure.  In  this  connection,  it  is 
worth  noting  that  among  the  literary  schemes  projected 
by  Southey  at  this  time  was  a  continuation  of  Warton's 
History  of  English  Poetry.  But  broken  health  and  old 
age  prevented  the  project  being  carried  out. 

A  long  and  notable  literary  career  received  suitable 
recognition  from  the  Crown  in  1835,  when  Peel  con- 
ferred on  the  Laureate  a  pension  of  £300  a  year,  and 
offered  him  a  baronetcy  as  an  acknowledgment  of  his 
services  "  not  only  to  literature,  but  to  the  higher 
interests  of  virtue  and  religion."  Southey,  on  financial 
grounds,  declined  the  latter  honour. 

In  The  Lay  of  the  Laureate,  Southey  alludes  to 

That  wreath  which  in  Eliza's  golden  days 
My  master  dear,  divinest  Spenser,  wore 

as  being  given  in  honour,  and  worn  by  him  with  honour. 
The  latter  part  of  the  statement,  at  aU  events,  is  literally 
true.  If  Southey  did  not  invest  the  Laureateship  with 
poetical  splendour,  he  assuredly  maintained  its  dignity. 
Macaulay's  prediction  has  indeed  been  fulfilled.  Few 
to-day  find  pleasure  in  reading  Southey's  poetry.  As 
for  his  Laureate  odes,  they  are  not  to  be  despised,  being 
much  superior  to  those  of  his  immediate  predecessors  ; 
but  their  poetic  grace  is  slender,  and  their  inspiration 
a  negligible  quantity.     They,  however,  sometimes  thrill, 


238  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

and  here  and  there  foreshadow  that  fuller,  and  richer, 
and  more  glorious  life  which  was  to  reach  maturity  in 
the  Victorian  era. 

That  the  Laureateship  was  distinctly  the  better  of 
Southey's  tenure,  there  cannot  be  any  doubt.  His 
self-glorification,  censoriousness,  political  vacillation,  and 
literary  purblindness  where  the  work  of  his  contem- 
poraries was  concerned,  made  him,  it  is  true,  many 
enemies.  Nevertheless,  he  was  morally  a  strong  man. 
The  world  of  letters  might  taunt  him  with  being  a  poor 
Laureate,  but  it  could  not  accuse  him  of  want  of 
character.  Scott  declined  the  Laureateship,  among 
other  reasons,  because  it  was  a  "  ridiculous  "  office. 
Southey  removed  this  reproach.  The  office  of  Poet 
Laureate,  as  we  know  it,  dates  from  his  time.  Southey's 
poetry  may  be  dead,  as  Thackeray  affirmed,  but  let  it  re- 
dound to  his  credit  that  he  at  any  rate  invested  with  dignity 
an  ancient  poetical  office  which  had  fallen  into  disrepute. 

Wordsworth,  fittingly  enough,  wrote  Southey's  epitaph, 
which,  if  it  testifies  most  to  the  writer's  goodness  of 
heart,  does  contain  some  truth. 

Ye  vales  and  hills  whose  beauty  hither  drew 
The  poet's  steps,  and  fixed  them  here,  on  you. 
His  eyes  have  closed  I  and  ye,  loved  books,  no  more 
Shall  Southey  feed  upon  your  precious  lore. 
To  works  that  ne'er  shall  forfeit  their  renown. 
Adding  immortal  labours  of  his  own — 
Whether  he  traced  historic  truth,  with  zeal 
For  the  State's  guidance,  or  the  Church's  weal, 
Or  Fancy,  disciplined  by  studious  art, 
Inform'd  his  pen,  or  wisdom  of  the  heart, 
Or  judgments  sanctioned  in  the  Patriot's  mind 
By  reverence  for  the  rights  of  all  mankind. 
Wide  were  his  aims,  yet  in  no  human  breast 
Could  private  feelings  meet  for  holier  rest. 
His  joys,  his  griefs,  have  vanished  like  a  cloud 
From  Skiddaw's  top ;  but  he  to  heaven  was  vowed 
Through  bis  industrious  life,  and  Christian  faith 
Calmed  in  his  soul  the  fear  of  change  and  death. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH 

At  the  time  of  Southey's  death  in  1843,  Wilham 
Edmonstoune  Aytoun,  in  conjunction  with  his  friend, 
Theodore  Martin  (afterwards  Sir  Theodore),  was  con- 
tributing to  Tail's  and  Fraser's  magazines  those  clever 
burlesque  poems  which,  in  their  collected  form,  came  to 
be  known  as  the  Bon  Gaultier  Ballads.  As  the  survey 
included  contemporary  literary  events,  the  Laureateship 
formed  a  theme  for  a  display  of  brilliant  though  not 
caustic  wit.  The  authors  represent  Southey's  death  as 
the  signal  for  a  general  uprising  of  the  poetasters. 

He's  dead,  he's  dead,  the  Laureate's  dead  :  'Twas  thus  the 

cry  began, 
And  straightway  every  garret-roof  gave  up  its  minstrel  man  ; 
From  Grub  Street,  and  from  Houndsditch,  and  from  Farring- 

don  Within, 
The  poets  all  towards  Whitehall  poured  on  with  eldritch  din. 

The    first    Lord    Lytton    (then    Sir    Edward    Bulwer 

Lytton)    thus    amusingly   sets   forth   his   claim   to    the 

poetical  crown — 

Oh,  I  see — old  Southey's  dead  ! 
They'll  want  some  bard  to  fill  the  vacant  chair. 
And  drain  the  annual  butt — and  oh  !   what  head 
More  fit  with  laurel  to  be  garlanded 
Than  this,  which,  curled  in  many  a  fragrant  coil. 
Breathes  of  Castalia's  streams,  and  best  Macassar  oil  ? 

But  Lytton  is  eclipsed  by  Robert  Montgomery,  author 
of  The  Omnipresence  of  the  Deity  (which  ran  through  no 
fewer  than  twenty-nine  editions),  and  of  Satan. 

I  fear  no  rival  for  the  vacant  throne  ; 
No  mortal  thunder  shall  eclipse  my  own  ! 

I  care  not,  I  !    resolved  to  stand  or  fall ; 
One  down  another  on,   I'll  smash  them  all  ! 

239 


240  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Tennyson  is  also  represented  as  a  candidate,  his  poem, 
The  Merman,  being  parodied  under  the  title  of  The 
Laureate.  But  his  time  was  not  yet.  An  older  and  a 
greater  poet  must  first  receive  the  laurel,  and  so,  in  the 
words  of  Bon  Gaultier, 

They  led  our  Wordsworth  to  the  Queen — she  crowned  him  with 

the  bays, 
And  wished  him  many  happy  years,  and  many  quarter-days  ; 
And  if  you'd  have  the  story  told  by  abler  lips  than  mine, 
You've  but  to  call  at  Rydal  Mount,  and  taste  the  Laureate's 

wine  I 

Wordsworth  holds  a  unique  position  in  the  long  ancestral 
line  of  royal  poets.  If  we  except  the  ode  composed  in 
connection  with  the  installation  of  the  Prince  Consort 
as  Chancellor  of  Cambridge  University,  the  authorship 
of  which,  as  will  be  shown  presently,  is  extremely  dubious, 
he  is  the  only  Poet  Laureate  who  never  wrote  a  single 
line  in  that  capacity.  In  his  case,  the  office  was  purely 
honorary,  and  was  bestowed,  in  Peel's  words,  as  "  a 
tribute  of  respect  which  is  justly  due  to  the  first  of 
living  poets." 

The  bestowal  of  the  office  on  Wordsworth  marked 
another  turning-point  in  the  history  of  the  Laureateship. 
It  signified  that  the  old  idea  of  a  Poet  Laureate  as  a 
servant  of  the  Crown  compelled  to  drill  his  muse  to 
perform  certain  pieces  of  task-work  was  obsolete, 
and  that  in  its  place  there  had  come  a  more  dignified 
conception  of  the  office.  Henceforward,  the  Laureate- 
ship  was  to  be  regarded  as  the  fitting  accompaniment  of 
poetical  renown — as  an  office  to  be  conferred  on  an 
eminent  and  representative  poet,  but  to  which  no  com- 
pulsory duties  were  attached.  With  Southey  (at  least 
during  the  earlier  years)  the  Laureateship  was  simply 
a  Court  appointment  with  an  allotted  task ;  with 
Wordsworth  it  was  purely  an  honour — a  worthy 
recognition  of  commanding  poetical  genius. 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH 
From  an  Engraving  by  J.  Skelton 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH  241 

A  review  of  the  circumstances  attending  Wordsworth's 
appointment  will  clearly  demonstrate  the  marked  change 
in  the  attitude  of  the  Crown  towards  this  ancient  office. 
Southey  died  on  21st  March,  1843,  and  a  few  days  later 
Wordsworth  received  a  letter  from  Earl  De  La  Warr,  the 
Lord  Chamberlain,  announcing  that  he  had  recommended 
Queen  Victoria  to  offer  him  the  Laureateship,  and  that 
Her  Majesty  had  signified  her  gracious  approval. 

Wordsworth  immediately  but  respectfully  declined  the 
office.  He  was  very  sensible  of  the  honour,  especially 
of  succeeding  his  friend  Southey  ;  but  it  imposed  duties 
which,  far  advanced  in  life  as  he  was,  he  could  not  venture 
to  undertake.  The  Lord  Chamberlain  again  wrote, 
pressing  the  office  on  him,  and  assuring  him  that  the 
duties  would  be  merely  nominal.  This  was  followed  up 
by  a  letter  from  the  Prime  Minister  (Sir  Robert  Peel). 
It  is  dated  3rd  April,  1843,  and  gives  "  dignified 
expression  to  the  national  feeling  in  the  matter." 

The  letter  is  as  follows — "  My  dear  Sir, — I  hope  you 
may  be  induced  to  reconsider  your  decision  with  regard 
to  the  appointment  of  Poet  Laureate.  The  offer  was 
made  to  you  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  with  my 
entire  concurrence,  not  for  the  purpose  of  imposing 
on  you  any  onerous  or  disagreeable  duties,  but  in 
order  to  pay  you  that  tribute  of  respect  which  is 
justly  due  to  the  first  of  living  poets.  The  Queen 
entirely  approved  of  the  nomination,  and  there  is 
one  unanimous  feeling  on  the  part  of  all  who  have 
heard  of  the  proposal  (and  it  is  pretty  generally 
known),  that  there  could  not  be  a  question  about  the 
selection.  Do  not  be  deterred  by  the  fear  of  any  obliga- 
tions which  the  appointment  may  be  supposed  to  imply. 
/  will  undertake  that  you  shall  have  nothing  required  from 
you.  But  as  the  Queen  can  select  for  this  honourable 
appointment  no  one  whose  claims  for  respect  and  honour, 

i6— (a34i) 


242  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

on  account  of  eminence  as  a  poet,  can  be  placed  in  com- 
petition with  yours,  I  trust  you  will  not  longer  hesitate 
to  accept  it.  Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir,  with  sincere 
esteem,  most  faithfully  yours,  Robert  Peel."  ^ 

The  cordiality  of  this  letter,  coupled  with  the  express 
understanding  that  acceptance  of  the  office  imposed  no 
restraint  on  his  independence,  put  an  end  to  Words- 
worth's hesitancy  ;  and  on  4th  April,  he  wrote  from 
Rydal  Mount,  as  follows — "  Dear  Sir  Robert, — Having 
since  my  first  acquaintance  with  Horace  borne  in  mind 
the  charge  which  he  tells  us  frequently  thrilled  his  ear, 

Solve  senescentem  mature  sanus  equum,  ne 
Peccet  ad  extremum, 

I  could  not  but  be  deterred  from  incurring  responsibilities 
which  I  might  not  prove  equal  to,  at  so  late  a  period  of 
life  ;  but  as  my  mind  has  been  entirely  set  at  ease  by 
the  very  kind  and  most  gratifying  letter  with  which  you 
have  honoured  me,  and  by  a  second  communication  from 
the  Lord  Chamberlain  to  the  same  effect,  and  in  a  like 
spirit,  I  have  accepted  with  unqualified  pleasure  a  dis- 
tinction sanctioned  by  her  Majesty,  and  which  expresses, 
upon  authority  entitled  to  the  highest  respect,  a  sense 
of  the  national  importance  of  Poetic  Literature  ;  and 
so  favourable  an  opinion  of  the  success  with  which  it  has 
been  cultivated  by  one,  who,  after  this  additional  mark 
of  your  esteem,  ^  cannot  refrain  from  again  assuring  you 
how  deeply  sensible  he  is  of  the  many  and  great  obliga- 
tions he  owes  to  your  goodness,  and  who  has  the  honour 
to  be,  dear  Sir  Robert,  most  faithfully,  your  humble 
servant,  William  Wordsworth."  ^ 

The  warrant  of  his  appointment  is  dated  6th  April, 
1843,  and  specifies  that  he  is  "  to  have,  hold,  exercise, 

1  Life,  by  Wm.  Knight,  iii,  435-6. 

*  Peel  had  in   1842,  at  the  instigation  of  Gladstone,  bestowed  on 
the  poet  an  annuity  of  I'iOQ  from  the  Civil  List. 
»  Life,  by  Wm.   Knight,  iii,  436. 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH  243 

and  enjoy  all  the  rights,  profits,  and  privileges  apper- 
taining to  the  office."  On  his  acceptance,  Wordsworth 
kissed  hands,  and,  according  to  a  persistent  and  wide- 
spread, but  wholly  unfounded  belief,  wrote  the  follow- 
ing sonnet,  the  colossal  egotism  of  which  must  strike 
every  Wordsworthian  as  being  in  strange  contrast  to  the 
poet's  usual  reserve  and  diffidence.  ^ 

Bays  !   which  in  former  days  have  graced  the  brow 
Of  some,  who  Hved  and  loved,  and  sang  and  died  ; 
Leaves  that  were  gathered  on  the  pleasant  side 
Of  old  Parnassus  from  Apollo's  bough  ; 
With  palpitating  hand  I  take  ye  now, 
Since  worthier  minstrel  there  is  none  beside. 
And  mth  a  thrill  of  song  half  deified, 
I  bind  them  proudly  on  my  locks  of  snow. 
There  shall  they  bide,  till  he  who  follows  next, 
Of  whom  I  cannot  even  guess  the  name, 
Shall  by  Court  favour,  or  some  vain  pretext 
Of  fancied  merit,  desecrate  the  same. 
And  think  perchance,  he  wears  them  quite  as  well 
As  the  sole  bard  who  sang  of  Peter  Bell  ! 

Wordsworth,  as  Myers  says,^  "  filled  with  silent  dignity 
the  post  of  Laureate  till  after  seven  years'  space  a 
worthy  successor  received 

This  laurel   greener  from  the  brows 
Of  him  that  uttered  nothing  base." 

The  appointment,  as  the  same  writer  points  out,  was 
significant  in  several  respects.  The  mercenary  features 
of  former  appointments  were  here  entirely  absent. 
It  was  not  a  political  job  ;  still  less  was  it  a  recognition 
of  courtier-like  qualities.  There  was  no  suggestion  that 
the  poet  was  well  qualified  to  write  adulatory  verse  as 
his  predecessors  had  done.  Wordsworth  had  made  it 
clear  that  he  would  accept  the  office  on  his  own  terms, 
which  were  purely  literary,  or  on  none  ;    and  the  Crown 

*  See  note  at  end  of  volume. 

»  Life  of  Wordiworth  (E.  M.  L.),  p.  168.   , 


244  THE  POETS   LAUREATE 

not  only  acknowledged  their  reasonableness,  but  declared 
them  to  be  the  only  terms.  The  appointment  was, 
therefore,  before  all  else,  a  national  recognition  of  the 
claims  of  Poetry  ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  it  testified 
that  in  Wordsworth  the  art  of  English  versification 
found  its  highest  living  embodiment. 

How  slender  was  the  tie  which  bound  Wordsworth  to 
the  Court  may  be  judged  by  the  fact  that  he  wrote  no 
official  poems,  and  that  only  on  one  occasion  during  his 
seven  years'  tenure  of  the  Laureateship  did  he  leave  his 
retreat  in  the  heart  of  his  beloved  Lakeland  to  attend 
a  Court  function.  In  May,  1845,  he  obeyed  an  impera- 
tive summons  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain  to  attend  a  State 
ball  at  Buckingham  Palace. 

There  must  have  been,  as  Professor  Knight  remarks, 
"  something  not  a  little  incongruous  in  the  severely 
simple,  almost  austere,  poet  of  seventy-five  years  attend- 
ing a  ceremonial  of  this  kind."  ^  Haydon  notes  in  his 
Diary,  under  date  3rd  May,  1845  :  "  Dear  old  Words- 
worth called,  looking  hearty  and  strong.  '  I  came  up 
to  go  to  the  State  ball,'  said  he,  '  and  the  Lord 
Chancellor  '  (doubtless  the  Lord  Chamberlain  is  meant) 
'  told  me  at  the  ball  I  ought  to  go  to  the  lev^e.'  " 

And  to  the  levee  Wordsworth  went,  but  in  a  Court 
dress  belonging  to  Samuel  Rogers,  and  wearing  a  sword 
once  owned  by  Sir  Humphry  Davy.  "  What,"  exclaims 
Haydon,  "  would  Hazlitt  say  now  ?  The  poet  of  the 
lakes  in  bag-wig,  sword,  and  ruffles  !  "  Haydon  also 
remarks  that  the  fitting  of  the  Court  dress  was  no  easy 
matter.  "  It  was  a  squeeze,  but  by  pulling  and  hauling 
they  got  him  in."  "  Fancy,"  he  adds,  "  the  high  priest 
of  mountain  and  of  flood  on  his  knees  in  a  Court,  the 
quiz  of  the  courtiers,  in  a  dress  that  did  not  belong  to 
him,  with  a  sword  that  was  not  his  own    and  a  coat 

1  Life  of  Wordsworth,  iii,  468. 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH  245 

which  he  borrowed."  ^  Haydon,  who  was  wont  to 
regard  Wordsworth  as  Nature's  high  priest,  could  not 
bear  to  "  associate  a  bag-wig  and  sword,  ruffles  and 
buckles,  with  HelveUyn  and  the  mountain  solitudes." 
Talfourd,  on  the  other  hand,  admitted  that  it  was  a 
"  glory "  to  have  compelled  the  Court  to  send  for 
Wordsworth  ;  but,  asks  Haydon,  "  would  it  not  have 
been  a  greater  glory  had  he  stayed  away  "^ — an  opinion 
with  which  it  is  impossible  not  to  agree. 

On  returning  home,  the  Laureate  wrote  an  interesting 
account  of  his  novel  experience  to  his  friend.  Professor 
Reed  :  "  The  reception  given  me  by  the  Queen,  at  her 
ball,  was  most  gracious.  Mrs.  Everett,  the  wife  of  your 
minister,  among  many  others,  was  a  witness  to  it,  with- 
out knowing  who  I  was.  It  moved  her  to  the  shedding 
of  tears.  This  effect  was  in  part  produced,  I  suppose, 
by  American  habits  of  feeling,  as  pertaining  to  a 
republican  government.  To  see  a  grey-haired  man  of 
seventy-five  years,  kneeling  down,  in  a  large  assembly, 
to  kiss  the  hand  of  a  young  woman,  is  a  sight  for  which 
institutions  essentially  democratic  do  not  prepare  a 
spectator  of  either  sex,  and  must  naturally  place  the 
opinions  upon  which  a  republic  is  founded,  and  the 
sentiments  which  support  it,  in  strong  contrast  with  a 
Government  based  and  upheld  as  ours  is." 

In  this  letter  also  Wordsworth  makes  a  generous 
reference  to  the  young  poet  who  was  to  succeed  him  in 
the  Laureateship.  "  I  saw  Tennyson  in  London  several 
times.  He  is  decidedly  the  first  of  our  living  poets, 
and  I  hope  will  give  the  world  still  better  things.  You 
will  be  pleased  to  learn  that  he  expressed,  in  the 
strongest  terms,  his  gratitude  to  my  writings.  To  this 
I  was  far  from  indifferent,  though  persuaded  that  he  is 

1   Life  of  Haydon,  iii,  279. 
»   Ibid.,  iii,  279. 


246  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

not  much  in  sympathy  with  what  I  should  myself  most 
value  in  my  attempts,  viz.,  the  spirituality  with  which 
I  have  endeavoured  to  invest  the  material  universe,  and 
the  moral  relations  under  which  I  have  wished  to 
exhibit  its  most  ordinary  appearances." 

In  January,  1846,  Wordsworth  presented  a  copy  of 
his  poems  to  the  Queen,  upon  the  fly-leaf  of  which  he 
inscribed  the  following  verses — 

Deign,   Sovereign  Mistress  !    to  accept  a  lay, 

No  Laureate  offering  of  elaborate  art ; 
But  salutation  taking  its  glad  way 

From  deep  recesses  of  a  loyal  heart. 

Queen,  Wife,  and  Mother  !    may  All -judging  Heaven 
Shower  with  a  bounteous  hand  on  Thee  and  Thine 

Felicity  that  only  can  be  given 

On  earth  to  goodness  blest  by  grace  divine. 

Lady  !    devoutly  honoured  and  beloved 

Through  every  realm  confided  to  thy  sway  ; 

Mayst  thou  pursue  thy  course  by  God  approved, 
And  He  will  teach  thy  people  to  obey. 

As  thou  art  wont,  thy  sovereignty  adorn 

With  woman's  gentleness,  yet  firm  and  staid  ; 

So  shall  that  earthly  crown  thy  brows  have  worn 
Be  changed  for  one  whose  glory  cannot  fade. 

And  now,  by  duty  urged,  I  lay  this  Book 

Before  thy  Majesty,  in  humble  trust 
That  on  its  simplest  pages  thou  wilt  look 

With  a  benign  indulgence  more  than  just. 

Nor  wilt  thou  blame  an  aged  Poet's  prayer. 
That  issuing  hence  may  steal  into  thy  mind 

Some  solace  under  weight  of  royal  care. 
Or  grief — the  inheritance  of  human  kind. 

For  know  we  not  that  from  celestial  spheres, 
When  Time  was  young,  an  inspiration  came 

(Oh,  were  it  mine  !)    to  hallow  saddest  tears, 
And  help  life  onward  in  its  noblest  aim  ? 

Shortly  after  his  appointment,  Wordsworth's  son-in- 
law,  Quillinan,  suggested  the  composition  of  "  a  hymn 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH  247 

to  or  on  the  King  of  kings,  in  rhymed  verse  or  blank, 
invoking  a  blessing  on  the  Queen  and  country,"  "  This," 
Quillinan  observes  in  a  letter  to  Crabb  Robinson,  "  would 
be  a  new  mode  of  dealing  with  the  office  of  Laureate, 
and  would  come  with  dignity  and  propriety,  I  think, 
from  a  seer  of  Wordsworth's  age  and  character.  I  told 
him  so  ;  and  he  made  no  observation.  I,  therefore, 
think  it  likely  that  he  may  consider  the  suggestion  ; 
but  he  certainly  will  not,  if  he  hears  that  anything  of 
that  sort  is  expected  from  him."  ^  The  Laureate  may 
have  considered  Quillinan's  proposal,  but  he  did  not 
act  on  it. 

In  1847,  however,  Wordsworth  agreed  to  attempt,  on 
behalf  of  royalty,  to  "  retouch  a  harp  "  which  had  for 
some  time  been  laid  aside.  The  Prince  Consort  having 
been  elected  Chancellor  of  Cambridge  University,  His 
Royal  Highness  asked  the  Laureate  to  write  an  ode 
which  might  be  set  to  music  and  performed  on  the 
occasion  of  his  installation.  By  so  doing,  the  Prince 
wished  not  only  to  bear  testimony  to  his  admiration  for 
the  genius  of  the  royal  poet,  but  to  be  "  the  means  of 
preserving  for  the  University  of  Cambridge  another 
valuable  work  of  one  of  her  most  distinguished  sons."^ 

Wordsworth  was  highly  gratified,  but  the  serious,  and 
as  eventually  it  turned  out  to  be,  fatal  illness  of  his 
daughter,  Dora,  weighed  heavily  on  his  mind,  making 
composition  difficult,  if  not  impossible.  Though  the 
poem  was  published  in  the  newspapers  on  the  day  after 
the  installation  ceremony  as  having  been  "  written  for 
the  occasion  by  the  Poet  Laureate,  by  royal  command," 
Wordsworth's  share  in  its  composition  is  extremely 
problematical.  Indeed,  Professor  Knight  goes  as  far 
as  to  say  that  the  Laureate  did  not  write  a  single  line 

1  Life,  by  Wm.  Knight,  iii,  437,  note. 
»  Ibid.,  iii,  475. 


248  THE  POETS   LAUREATE 

of  the  ode  ;  at  any  rate  he  has  found  no  evidence  identi- 
fying Wordsworth  with  its  authorship.  Dr.  Cradock 
ascribed  it  to  the  poet's  nephew,  Christopher  Words- 
worth, afterwards  Bishop  of  Lincohi,  but  Dr.  Knight 
asserts,  on  the  strength  of  a  communication  from  Aubrey 
De  Vere,  that  Wordsworth's  son-in-law,  Edward  QuilUnan, 
was  the  author  of  the  whole,  although  the  poet's  nephew 
may  have  revised  it.  According  to  Aubrey  De  Vere, 
Quillinan  wrote  the  Laureate  poem  at  Wordsworth's 
request,  "  he  having  himself  wholly  failed  in  a  reluctant 
attempt  to  write  one."  And  this  testimony  is  confirmed 
by  Miss  Frances  Arnold,  who  says  that  Quillinan's 
daughter  told  her  that  the  Cambridge  ode  "  had  been 
written  by  her  father,  owing  to  the  deep  depression  in 
which  Wordsworth  then  was."  ^  The  internal  evidence 
is  equally  weighty.  There  is  so  little  characteristically 
Wordsworthian  about  the  ode  that  one  finds  it  impossible 
not  to  endorse  the  view  of  Aubrey  De  Vere  that  if  Words- 
worth had  written  this  poem,  it  is  highly  improbable  that 
he  would  have  admitted  it  to  a  place  among  his  works, 
more  especially  as  "he  did  not  hold  Laureate  odes  in 
honour."  2    Here  is  the  introduction  and  chorus — 

For  thirst  of  power  that  Heaven  disowns. 
For  temples,   towers,  and  thrones, 
Too  long  insulted  by  the  Spoiler's  shock 
Indignant  Europe  cast 
Her  stormy  foe  at  last 
To  reap  the  whirlwind  on  a  Libyan  rock. 

War  is  passion's  basest  game 

Madly  played  to  win  a  name  ; 
Up  starts  some  tyrant.  Earth  and  Heaven  to  dare. 

The  servile  million  bow, 
But  will  the  lightning  glance  aside  to  spare 

The  Despot's  laurelled  brow  ? 

1  See   Prof.    Knight's   note  in   the  Eversley  «d.   of  Wordsworth's 
Works,  vol.  viii.  320-1 

*  Eversley   Wordsworth,  viii,  320-1. 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH  249 

Chorus. 
War  is  mercy,  glory,  fame, 

Waged  in  freedom's  holy  cause  ; 
Freedom,  such  as  Man  may  claim 

Under  God's  restraining  laws. 
Such  is  Albion's  fame  and  glory  ; 
Let  rescued  Europe  tell  the  story. 

Towards    the    close   of   the    ode,   there   is   a   flattering 

reference  to  the  Queen  and  the  Prince  Consort — 

Albert,  in  thy  race  we  cherish 

A  Nation's  strength  that  will  not  perish 

While  England's  sceptered  Line 
True  to  the  King  of  Kings  is  found  ; 

Like  that  W^ise  ^  ancestor  of  thine 
Who  threw  the  Saxon  shield  o'er  Luther's  life. 
When  first  above  the  yells  of  bigot  strife 

The  trumpet  of  the  Living  W^ord 
Assumed  a  voice  of  deep  portentous  sound. 
From  gladdened  Elbe  to  startled  Tiber  heard. 
Chorus. 

WTiat  shield  more  sublime 
E'er  was  blazoned  or  sung  ? 
And  the  Prince  whom  we  greet 
From  its  Hero  is  sprung. 

Resound,  resound  the  strain. 

That  hails  him  for  our  own  ! 
Again,  again,  and  yet  again, 
For  the  Church,  the  State,  the  Throne  ! 
And  that  Presence  fair  and  bright. 
Ever  blest  wherever  seen. 
Who  deigns  to  grace  our  festal  rite. 
The  pride  of  the  Islands,  Victoria  the  Queen. 

Altogether  the  ode  is  decidedly  mediocre,  and  would 
not  have  been  quoted  at  such  length  were  it  not  for 
the  fact  that  it  is  a  literary  curiosity  in  the  sense  of 
being  the  only  poem  to  which  Wordsworth's  name  is 
attached  in  his  capacity  of  Poet  Laureate. 

But  despite  its  dubious  authorship,  the  ode,  which 
was  set  to  music  by  Thomas  Attwood  Walmisley, 
"proved    most    effective   in    performance."  ^     By   that 

*   Frederic  the  Wise,  Elector  of  Saxony. 
'   Life  of  Prince  Consort,  i,  395. 


250  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

is  probably  meant  that  the  music  was  better  than  the 
poem.  Wordsworth,  however,  was  the  recipient  of 
many  congratulatory  messages  which,  in  the  circum- 
stances, must  have  been  somewhat  embarrassing. 
Julius  Charles  Hare  thanked  him  for  "  the  noble 
Installation  Ode  .  .  ,  which  has  stirred  me  more  than 
any  poem  I  have  read  for  a  long  time.  I  have  been 
wondering,  since  I  heard  you  were  to  write  an  Ode  for 
the  occasion,  how  you  would  extricate  yourself  from 
what  I  feared  you  would  deem  a  difficult  and  irksome 
task  .  .  .  ;  but  I  had  not  at  all  divined  the  grand 
succession  of  great  national  pictures  and  moral  ideas 
you  were  about  to  combine  with  such  felicity  around 
the  solemnity  of  the  day."  Madame  Bunsen  character- 
ised the  ode  as  "  really  affecting,  because  the  striking 
point  selected  was  founded  in  fact,  all  exaggeration  and 
humbug  being  avoided."  ^  Adam  Sedgwick,  the  geologist, 
wrote  that  the  performance  "  was  followed  by  one  of  the 
most  rapturous  manifestations  of  feeling  I  have  ever 
had  the  happiness  of  witnessing."  Sedgwick's  only 
regret  was  that  "  the  venerable  poet  who  had  poured 
out  the  stores  of  his  mind  to  do  honour  to  our  Queen's 
visit,  and  to  grace  the  triumph  of  her  husband,"  ^  was 
unable  to  witness  the  ceremony. 

The  truth  is,  Wordsworth  fully  intended  to  be 
present,  but  the  illness  of  his  daughter  (who  died  a  few 
days  later),  and  the  consequent  dejection,  made  a  visit 
to  Cambridge  impossible.  His  nephew,  Christopher, 
however,  attended  the  ceremony,  and  from  him  the  poet 
received  an  interesting  account  of  the  memorable  day. 
"  My  dear  uncle,"  wrote  Christopher,  "  I  was  in  the 
Senate  House  on  Tuesday  during  the  performance  of  the 
Installation  Ode  ;    and,  being  on  the  platform  very  near 

*  Bunsen's  Memoirs,  ii,  137. 

»  Life,  by  Wm.   Knight,  iii,  478-9. 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH  251 

Her  Majesty  and  the  Chancellor,  and  among  all  the 
grandees,  I  had  the  best  opportunity  of  hearing  and 
seeing  the  effect  it  produced,  and  I  assure  you  that 
nothing  could  be  more  gratifying  than  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  received.  All  seemed  to  admire  the 
patriotic  and  moral  spirit  of  the  Ode,  and  I  think  it 
did  good  to  many  hearts,  as  well  as  gave  pleasure  to 
many  ears.  It  was  even  performed  in  London  in  the 
Hanover  Square  Rooms."  ^ 

W^ordsworth's  tenure  of  the  Laureateship  was  out- 
wardly the  least  eventful.  Called  to  the  office  when  the 
burden  of  years  and  of  sorrow  pressed  heavily,  it  would 
have  been  surprising  had  it  been  otherwise.  But  even 
supposing  the  distinction  had  been  Wordsworth's  when, 
as  in  the  case  of  Tennyson,  the  dew  of  youth  was 
still  upon  him,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  would  have 
been  an  ideal  Laureate,  as  his  successor  unquestionably 
was.  His  genius  did  not  lie  in  the  direction  of  giving 
appropriate  poetic  expression  to  national  feelings  and 
aspirations.  We  cannot  imagine  him  rising  to  his  full 
stature  in  celebrating  deeds  of  martial  heroism,  or  in 
rousing  the  patriotism  of  his  countrymen.  Nevertheless, 
the  Laureateship  was  immeasurably  richer  by  being 
associated  with  the  name  of  William  Wordsworth. 

1  Life,  by  Wm.  Knight,  iii,  476-7. 


CHAPTER  XV 

ALFRED,    LORD   TENNYSON 

One  characteristic  of  the  Georgian  Laureates  was  their 
comparative  youthfulness.  Of  the  eight  poets  who  held 
office  under  the  four  Georges,  only  two — Gibber  and 
Warton — were  above  the  age  of  forty-five  at  the  time 
of  their  appointment.  On  the  other  hand,  Eusden  had 
barely  entered  his  thirtieth  year  when  he  received  the 
laurel,  while  Southey  was  but  thirty-nine — the  same  age 
as  Dryden.  But  with  the  advent  of  the  Victorian  era, 
it  seemed  as  if  the  poetical  chaplet  was  going  to  rest 
only  on  the  brows  of  patriarchs.  Wordsworth  had 
reached  the  respectable  age  of  seventy-three  when  he 
became  Poet  Laureate,  and  when  he  died  in  1850, 
strenuous  efforts  were  made  to  induce  a  still  more 
venerable  poet  to  succeed  him — Samuel  Rogers,  aged 
eighty-seven. 

The  proffer  of  the  Laureateship  to  the  genial  author 
of  The  Pleasures  of  Memory  was  made  by  Queen  Victoria 
through  Prince  Albert.  His  Royal  Highness's  letter  is 
interesting,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  again 
reveals  the  gratifying  change  in  the  attitude  of  royalty 
towards  the  ancient  office.  "  Although  the  spirit  of 
the  times,"  wrote  the  Prince,  "  has  put  an  end  to  the 
practice  (at  all  times  objectionable)  of  exacting  lauda- 
tory Odes  from  the  holder  of  that  office,  the  Queen 
attaches  importance  to  its  maintenance  from  its  his- 
torical antiquity  and  the  means  it  affords  to  the 
Sovereign  of  a  more  personal  connection  with  the  Poets 
of  the  country  through  one  of  their  chiefs.  I  am 
authorised,  accordingly,  to  offer  to  you  this  honorary 
post,  and  can  tell  you  that  it  will  give  Her  Majesty 

252 


Photo  by 


ElliitU  6-   Fry 


ALFRED,    LORD   TENNYSON 


ALFRED,   LORD  TENNYSON  253 

great  pleasure  if  it  were  accepted  by  one  whom  she  has 
known  so  long,  and  who  would  so  much  adorn  it  ;  but 
that  she  would  not  have  thought  of  offering  it  to  you 
at  your  advanced  age  if  any  duties  or  trouble  were 
attached  to  it."  ^ 

Rogers  was  naturally  elated  since  the  Laureateship 
was  intended  to  mean  for  him  what  it  meant  for  Words- 
worth— an  office  which  carried  with  it  no  duties,  but 
was  simply  a  tangible  recognition  of  his  services  to 
English  poetry.  But  when  a  man  reaches  the  age  of 
eighty-seven,  he  may  well  hesitate  about  accepting  even 
honorary  posts,  and  Rogers's  unfailing  good  sense  told 
him  that  the  honour  was  in  the  offer.  When  "  I 
reflected,"  he  wrote  to  the  Prince  Consort,  "  that 
nothing  remained  of  me  but  my  shadow — a  shadow  so 
soon  to  depart — my  heart  gave  way,  and  after  long 
deliberation  and  many  conflicts  within  me,  I  am  come, 
but  with  great  reluctance,  to  the  resolution  that  I  must 
decline  the  offer."  ^ 

When  Rogers  declared  his  inability  to  accept  the  office, 
the  Prime  Minister  (Lord  John  Russell)  submitted  to  the 
Queen  the  names  of  no  fewer  than  four  poets,  any  one  of 
whom,  in  his  judgment,  would  make  suitable  Laureates. 
These  were  Leigh  Hunt,  Sheridan  Knowles,  Sir  Henry 
Taylor,  and  Alfred  Tennyson.  The  Queen's  choice  fell 
on  the  last-mentioned,  Her  Majesty  being  strongly 
influenced  by  the  Prince  Consort's  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion of  the  newly-published  In  Memoriam,  and  by  the 
fact  that  Tennyson  had  the  weighty  support  of  Rogers. 

The  latter  had,  indeed,  shown  a  kindly  interest  in  the 
rising  poet,  and  had  done  not  a  little  to  pave  his  way 
to  fame.  When,  in  1845,  Peel  granted  Tennyson  a  Civil 
List  pension  of  £200  a  year,  he  did  so  partly  because  he 

*  Rogers  and  his  Contemporaries,  by  P.  W.  Clayden,  ii,  352. 
"    Ibid.,  ii,  353 


254  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

was  an  admirer  of  Ulysses,  and  partly  because  "  many 
competent  judges  think  most  highly  "  of  him  as  a  poet 
with  "  powers  of  imagination  and  expression."  The 
"  competent  judges  "  whom  Peel  had  most  in  mind,  as  we 
learn  from  a  grateful  letter  of  Tennyson's,  were  Hallam 
and  Rogers.  The  latter  was  also  consulted  by  Lord 
John  Russell  with  regard  to  the  bestowal  of  the  laurel. 
"  As  you  would  not  wear  the  laurel  yourself,"  the  Prime 
Minister  wrote  on  3rd  October,  1850,  "  I  have  mentioned 
to  the  Queen  those  whom  I  thought  most  worthy  of 
the  honour.  H.M.  is  inclined  to  bestow  it  on  Mr. 
Tennyson  ;  but  I  should  wish,  before  the  offer  is  made,  to 
know  something  of  his  character,  as  well  as  of  his  literary 
merits.  I  know  your  opinion  of  the  last  by  your  advice 
to  Sir  Robert  Peel,  but  I  should  be  glad  if  you  could  let 
me  know  something  of  his  character  and  position."  ^ 
Rogers's  reply  appears  to  have  been  quite  satisfactory, 
for  on  21st  October,  Lord  John  Russell  informed  the 
Prince  Consort  that  "  Mr.  Tennyson  is  a  fit  person  to  be 
Poet  Laureate." 

Nothing  was  further  from  Tennyson's  thoughts  than 
that  he  should  succeed  Wordsworth  in  the  Laureateship  ; 
and  when  one  November  morning  in  1850,  a  letter 
arrived  from  Windsor  Castle  conveying  the  offer  of  the 
post,  his  feelings  may  more  easily  be  imagined  than 
described.  Curiously  enough,  however,  the  night  before 
the  offer  reached  him  he  dreamt  that  the  Prince  Consort 
came  and  kissed  him  on  the  cheek,  and  that  he  acknow- 
ledged this  token  of  regard  by  remarking  :  "  Very  kind, 
but  very  German."^  The  royal  letter  was  couched  in 
similar  terms  to  that  sent  to  Rogers,  Her  Majesty, 
through  her  secretary,  expressing  the  opinion  that  in 
order  that  the  ofhce  should  remain  in  harmony  with 

*  Rogers  and  his  Contemporaries,  ii,  354-5. 

*  Memoir  of  Tennyson,  by  his  Son,  i,  335. 


ALFRED,   LORD  TENNYSON  255 

public  opinion,  it  was  necessary  that  "  it  should  be 
limited  to  a  name  bearing  such  distinction  in  the  literary 
world  as  to  do  credit  to  the  appointment."  ^  Tennyson 
ruminated  over  the  matter  for  the  best  part  of  a  day, 
and  then  wrote  two  letters,  one  of  acceptance  and  the 
other  of  refusal.  These  he  kept  in  his  pocket  until  the 
dinner  hour,  when  he  consulted  his  friends  as  to  which 
should  be  despatched.  Soon  the  die  was  cast,  Venables 
having  told  him  during  dinner  that  if  he  became  Laureate, 
he  should  always,  when  he  (Tennyson)  dined  out,  be 
offered  the  liver-wing  of  a  fowl — a  rather  paltry  reason, 
but  this  was  only  a  Tennysonian  joke.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  poet's  friends  strongly  counselled  him  in  favour 
of  acceptance,  and  he  did  not  oppose  their  wishes. 
Indeed,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  Tennyson  was  fully 
apprehensive  of  the  high  honour  conferred  on  a  poet 
who  had  as  yet  only  crossed  the  threshold  of  a 
resplendent  poetical  career. 

No  sooner  was  the  name  of  the  new  Poet  Laureate 
announced,  than  Tennyson  was  bombarded  with  poetical 
epistles  and  letters,  many  of  them  effusive,  and  a  few 
of  them  the  reverse.  "  I  get  such  shoals  of  poems," 
writes  the  embarrassed  Laureate,  "  that  I  am  almost 
crazed  with  them  ;  the  two  hundred  million  poets  of 
Great  Britain  deluge  me  daily  with  poems  :  truly  the 
Laureateship  is  no  sinecure.  If  any  good  soul  would 
just  by  way  of  a  diversion  send  me  a  tome  of  prose  !  "^ 
For  many  days  after  the  announcement  of  his  appoint- 
ment, Tennyson  spent  most  of  his  time  in  acknowledging 
the  congratulations  of  his  friends.  "  I  have  no  passion 
for  Courts,"  he  wrote  to  the  Rev.  H.  D.  Rawnsley, 
"  but  a  great  love  of  privacy.  ...  It  (the  appointment) 
is,  I  believe,  scarce  £100  a  year,  and  my  friend,  R.  M. 

*  Memoir  of  Tennyson,  by  his  Son,  i,  335. 

*  Memoir,  i,  337. 


256  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Milnes,  tells  me  that  the  price  of  the  patent  and  Court 
dress  will  swallow  up  all  the  first  year's  income.  .  .  . 
I  expect  an  heir  to  nothing  about  next  March  or  April. 
I  suppose  I  must  lay  by  the  Laureate's  hire  for  him  as 
Southey  did."  i 

In  February,  1851,  Tennyson  received  the  first  intima- 
tion of  his  official  literary  position  in  the  form  of  a 
summons  to  attend  a  levee.  This  necessitated  the 
procuring  of  a  Court  dress,  a  task  which  baffled  the  new 
Laureate.  Tennyson  notes  in  his  diary  that  he  and 
his  wife  drove  about  in  search  of  the  garments,  but 
their  quest  proved  unavailing,  and  the  poet  could  not 
attend  the  levee.  Rogers,  however,  hearing  of  his 
friend's  plight,  and  being  anxious  that  he  should  not  be 
kept  from  attending  the  next  lev6e,  offered  his  own 
Court  dress  which,  as  has  already  been  mentioned,  was 
worn  by  Wordsworth  at  his  first  and  only  State 
function,  and  had  been  promised  to  the  Wordsworth 
family  as  an  heirloom.  "  I  well  remember,"  says  Sir 
Henry  Taylor,  "  a  dinner  in  St.  James's  Place  when  the 
question  arose  whether  Samuel's  (Rogers)  suit  was 
spacious  enough  for  Alfred."  2  Wordsworth  had  been 
squeezed  into  it,  but  Tennyson,  being  a  tall  man,  pre- 
sented a  sartorial  problem  of  a  different,  though  not  less 
formidable,  kind.  "  The  coat,"  says  Tennyson,  "  did 
well  enough,  but  about  other  parts  of  the  dress  there  was 
some  anxiety  felt  for  the  levee  on  March  6th,  as  they  had 
not  been  tried  on."  ^  Happily,  after  considerable  altera- 
tion and  adjustment,  all  obstacles  were  surmounted,  and 
Tennyson  duly  attended  the  State  function  in  a  Court 
dress  which  had  previously  been  worn  by  two  poets, 
one  of  whom  had  been,  and  the  other  might  have  been, 
Poet  Laureate. 

>  Memoir,  i,  336. 

*  Rogers  and  his  Contemporaries,  ii,  355.  note. 

•  Memoir,  i,  338. 


ALFRED,  LORD  TENNYSON      257 

It  may  here  be  well  to  note  some  of  the  main 
characteristics  of  Tennyson's  Laureateship  before  refer- 
ring to  the  long  and  memorable  list  of  odes  which  he 
composed  in  connection  with  his  office.  Tennyson  was 
not  only  Poet  Laureate  for  a  much  longer  period  than 
any  of  his  thirteen  predecessors,  but  he  was  incom- 
parably the  greatest.  And  in  saying  this,  it  is  not 
forgotten  that  the  poetical  succession  includes  the 
shining  names  of  Ben  Jonson  and  Dryden. 

Tennyson  was  the  ideal  Poet  Laureate.  His  con- 
ception of  the  duties  of  the  office  was  as  sound  as  it  was 
novel,  and  because  it  was  sound,  he  invested  the 
Laureateship,  which,  until  the  days  of  Southey,  had 
been  a  petty  Court  office,  with  national  interest  and 
importance.  He  rightly  surmised  that  a  Poet  Laureate 
ought  to  have  better  work  on  hand  than  the  mere 
apotheosization  of  the  sovereign  and  the  chronicling  of 
outstanding  events  in  the  life  of  the  Court.  It  was 
his  duty  to  identify  the  office  with  the  life  and  welfare 
of  the  nation — to  give  poetical  expression  to  the  com- 
manding traits  of  the  national  character.  A  Poet 
Laureate  should  give  appropriate  utterance  to  a  nation's 
cherished  traditions  and  aspirations,  its  joys  and  its 
sorrows,  its  predilections,  and  even  its  prejudices.  It 
was  his  function,  too,  to  rouse  its  patriotism,  to  celebrate ' 
its  triumphs  in  peace  and  in  war,  to  deepen  its  reverence 
for  the  throne,  to  encourage  it  in  its  strivings  after 
higher  levels  of  national  attainment. 

No  doubt,  the  times  were  singularly  propitious  for 
giving  effect  to  so  daring  and  lofty  a  conception  of  the 
Laureateship.  The  older  wearers  of  the  laurel  were 
compelled  to  conform  to  conditions  which  were  wholly 
alien  to  the  spirit  of  the  early  days  of  the  Victorian  era. 
Nevertheless,  to  Tennyson  belongs  the  credit  not  only 
of  having  seen  that  the  time  had  arrived  for  a  broader 

17— (2341. 


258  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

and  more  dignified  interpretation  of  the  duties  of  the 
Laureateship,  but  of  giving  briUiant  and  memorable 
effect  to  his  conception. 

Tennyson  was  eminently  qualified  by  birth,  training, 
and  disposition  to  be  the  Laureate  of  the  Victorian  era. 
He  was  himself  the  visible  embodiment  of  the  character- 
istics of  the  average  Briton.  He  loved  his  country  with 
an  invincible  love,  and  was  profoundly  conscious  of  its 
greatness.  He  was  thrilled  by  its  glorious  past,  and, 
knowing  his  countrymen  to  be  loyal,  brave,  industrious, 
and  enterprising,  he  set  no  limits  to  its  future 
possibilities. 

While  sharing  to  the  full  the  feelings,  tastes,  and  desires 
of  the  typical  Englishman  of  his  day,  Tennyson  was 
able  to  express  these  in  a  poetic  language  and  imager}^ 
which  aU  could  understand,  and  most  could  admire. 
By  some  happy  stroke  of  genius,  as  Sir  Alfred  Lyall 
has  observed,  he  at  all  times  struck  powerfully  the 
right  popular  note.  His  Laureate  odes  do  not  utter  the 
sentiments  of  a  clique  :  they  throb  with  the  heart-beat 
of  a  nation.  Furthermore,  what  Tennyson  wrote  was 
not  mere  metrical  exercises  such  as  most  of  his  pre- 
decessors were  too  fond  of  practising,  but  poetry,  and 
poetry  full  of  melody  and  beauty  and  passion.  It  is 
also  noteworthy  that  his  odes  bear  the  impress  of  a 
sturdy  mind.  Tennyson  was  very  human  and  at  times 
bluntly  outspoken  ;  and  he  wrote  little  as  Poet  Laureate 
which  does  not  reveal  his  weakness  as  well  as  his  strength. 

The  year  1850  was  probably  the  most  memorable  in 
Tennyson's  long  life.  It  witnessed  his  marriage,  the 
publication  of  that  imperishable  threnody.  In  Memoriam, 
and  his  appointment  to  the  Laureateship.  The  first 
brought  him  the  greatest  happiness,  the  second  the  most 
renown,  but  the  third  endeared  him  to  the  great  mass 
of  his  countrymen.     There  was  peculiar  appropriateness 


ALFRED.   LORD  TENNYSON  259 

in  Tennyson  addressing  his  first  verses  as  Laureate  to 
the  Queen.  In  1845  Her  Majesty  marked  her  appre- 
ciation by  acceding  to  Peel's  recommendation  that  a 
Civil  List  pension  be  conferred  on  him,  while  five  years 
later  she  chose  him  out  of  a  list  of  four  poets  to  be 
Laureate.  Moreover,  the  Prince  Consort,  as  has  been 
indicated,  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  In  Memoriam. 

The  poem  To  the  Queen  (1851)  at  once  arrested  atten- 
tion, its  simple  melody  and  depth  of  feeling,  contrasting 
strikingly  with  the  dithyrambic  effusions  of  Southey. 
After  paying  his  illustrious  predecessor  what  has  been 
termed  a  "  negative  comphment,"  Tennyson  asks  the 
Queen  to  accept  his  poetical  offering — 

Take,  Madam,  this  poor  book  of  song  ; 

For  tho'  the  faults  were  thick  as  dust 

In  vacant  chambers,  I  could  trust 
Your   kindness.     May  you   rule   us   long, 

And  leave  us  rulers  of  your  blood 
As  noble  till  the  latest  day  ! 
May  children  of  our  children  say, 
'  *  She  wrought  her  people  lasting  good  ; 

' '  Her  court  was  pure  ;    her  life  serene  ; 

God   gave  her   peace  ;   her  land   reposed, 
A  thousand  claims  to  reverence  closed 
In  her  as  Mother,  Wife,  and  Queen." 

Having  dutifully  addressed  his  Sovereign,  Tennyson 
busied  himself  with  the  composition  of  several  national 
and  patriotic  lyrics.  While  in  his  breast  glowed  a 
warm  patriotism,  he  was  no  bigot  claiming  his  own 
country  to  be  without  spot  or  blemish.  The  behaviour 
of  France  after  the  war  of  1870  compelled  his  unstinted 
admiration,  and  no  one  rejoiced  more  than  he  when 
it  was  found  possible  for  Britain  and  France  to 
co-operate  for  the  good  of  the  world.  But  in  1851  he 
was  seriously  distrustful  of  our  neighbours  across  the 
Channel.     Nor  is  this  to  be  wondered  at,  considering 


260  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

that  it  was  the  year  of  the  coup  d'etat,  and  that  it  looked 
as  if  the  theatricalities  of  Napoleon  III  would  gravely 
menace  the  peace  of  Europe. 

In  this  frame  of  mind,  Tennyson  dashed  off  Britons 
Guard  Your  Own  and  Hands  All  Round,  which  were 
printed  in  the  Examiner.  The  latter,  Landor  character- 
ised as  "  incomparably  the  best  (convivial)  lyric  in  the 
language."  ^  And  no  one  who  reads  its  inspiriting  lines 
will  be  disposed  to  cavil  at  Landor's  judgment.  It  is  a 
trumpet  call  to  his  countrymen  not  only  to  be  mindful 
of  the  Motherland,  but  of  that  great  empire  on  which 
the  sun  never  sets.  Tennyson  was,  to  quote  Mr.  Joseph 
Chamberlain's  phrase,  "  thinking  imperially  "  when  our 
grandfathers  had  hardly  become  conscious  of  the 
existence  of  the  British  Empire. 

First  pledge  our  Queen  this  solemn  night, 

Then  drink  to   England,   every  guest ; 
That  man's  the  best  Cosmopolite 

Who  loves  his  native  country  best. 
May  freedom's  oak  for  ever  live 

With  stronger  life  from  day  to  day  ; 
That  man's  the  true  Conservative 

Who  lops  the  moulder'd  branch  away. 
Hands  all  round  ! 

God  the  traitor's  hope  confound  ! 
To  this  great  cause  of  Freedom  drink,  my  friends, 

And  the  great  name  of  England,  round  and  round 

To  all  the  loyal  hearts  who  long 

To  keep  our  English  Empire  whole  ! 
To  all  our  noble  sons,  the  strong 

New  England  of  the  Southern  Pole  ! 
To  England  under  Indian  skies, 

To  those  dark  millions  of  her  realm  ! 
To  Canada  whom  we  love  and  prize. 

Whatever  statesman  hold  the  helm. 
Hands  all  round  ! 

God  the  traitor's  hope  confound  ! 
To  this  great  name  of  England  drink,  my  friends. 

And  all  her  glorious  empire,  round  and  round. 

1  Memoiv,  i,  345,  note. 


ALFRED,   LORD  TENNYSON  261 

To  all  our  statesmen  so  they  be 

True  leaders  of  the  land's  desire  ! 
To  both  our  Houses,  may  they  see 

Beyond  the  borough  and  the  shire  ! 
We  sail'd  wherever  ship  could  sail, 

We  founded  many  a  mighty  state  ; 
Pray  God  our  greatness  may  not  fail 

Thro'  craven  fears  of  being  great. 
Hands  all  round  ! 

God  the  traitor's  hope  confound  ! 
To  this  great  cause  ot  Freedom  drink,  my  friends, 

And  the  great  name  of  England,  round  and  round. 

But  if  Tennyson  was  compelled  to  lament  the  disturbed 
state  of  political  affairs  abroad,  he  could  sound  the  note 
of  thanksgiving  at  home.  The  Great  Exhibition  held 
at  the  Crystal  Palace  in  1851  was  a  signal  triumph  of  the 
arts  of  peace.  The  Exhibition  created  tremendous 
interest,  nothing  of  the  kind  ever  having  been  seen 
before.  The  Prince  Consort,  who  had  laboured  untir- 
ingly for  the  promotion  of  science  and  art  and  industry, 
regarded  the  huge  palace  of  glass  and  iron  which  the 
skill  of  Sir  Joseph  Paxton  had  reared  at  Sydenham,  as 
the  crown  of  his  endeavours.  It  was,  therefore,  fitting 
that  the  Laureate  should  poetically  celebrate  an  event 
which  played  so  large  a  part  in  the  life  of  the  Prince 
and  of  the  nation.  The  ode  which  Tennyson  composed 
was  sung  at  the  opening  of  the  Exhibition,  and  was 
altogether  worthy  of  the  occasion.  The  jubilant  note 
is  sounded  clear  and  strong  in  the  opening  stanza — 

Uplift  a  thousand  voices  full  and  sweet. 

In  this  wide  hall  with  earth's  invention  stored. 
And  praise  the  invisible  universal  Lord, 

Who  lets  once  more  in  peace  the  nations  meet, 
Wliere  Science,   Art,   and  Labour  have  outpour'd 

Their  myriad  horns  of  plenty  at  our  feet. 

The  Laureate  then  proceeds  to  descant  on  the  treasures 


262  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

gathered    within    the    "  giant    aisles  "    of    the   spacious 
Palace-treasures 

Rich   in   model   and    design 

and 

Brought  from  under  every  star, 
Blown  from  over  every  main, 
And  mixt,  as  life  is  mixt  with  pain, 

The  works  of  peace  with  works  of  war. 

The    ode    ends    as    loftily    as    it    began,    the    Laureate 
appealing  to 

The  wise  who  think,  the  wise  who  reign 

to 

Let  the  fair  white-wing'd  peacemaker  fly 
To  happy  havens  under  all  the  skv, 
And  mix  the  seasons  and  the  golden  hours  ; 
Till  each  man  find  his  own  in  all  men's  good. 
And  all  men  work  in  noble  brotherhood, 
Breaking  their  mailed  fleets  and  armed  towers, 
And  ruling  by  obeying  Nature's  powers. 
And  gathering  all  the  fruits  of  earth  and 
crown 'd  with  all  her  flowers. 

In  1852  appeared  The  Third  of  February,  in  which 
Tennyson  sternly  rebuked  those  who,  in  regard  to  the 
attitude  of  France,  said 

That  England's  honest  censure  went  too  far. 

The  Laureate  loves  "  kind  Peace,"  but  not 

This  French  God,  the  child  of  Hell, 
Wild  War,  who  breaks  the  converse  of  the  wise. 

Moreover,  he  dare  not  "  by  silence  sanction  lies  " 

As  long  as  we  remain,  we  must  speak  free, 
Tho'  all  the  storm  of  Europe  on  us  break  ; 

No  little  German  state  are  we. 

But  the  one  voice  in  Europe  :  we  mtist  speak  ; 

That  if  to-night  our  greatness  were  struck  dead. 

There  might  be  left  some  record  of  the  things  we  said. 

In  September,  1852,  the  Duke  of  Welhngton  died,  and 
Tennyson  composed  that  ode  which,  although  it 
was   received    at    the    time   with    "  aU    but    universal 


ALFRED,   LORD  TENNYSON  263 

depreciation,"  ^  is  now  reckoned  one  of  the  jewels  of  his 
poetical  crown.  The  poem,  which  appeared  on  the  morning 
of  the  funeral,  was  roundly  abused  by  the  Press  as  merely 
a  conventional  Laureate  ode.  The  truth  is,  the  nation 
had  so  long  been  accustomed  to  having  the  great  events 
of  its  history  commemorated  in  bad  odes,  that  it  could 
not  appreciate  a  good  one. 

Tennyson  was  indignant  at  the  reproaches  cast  upon 
him,  and  vehemently  asserted  that  his  poem  had  been 
written  "  from  genuine  admiration  of  the  man."  So 
convinced,  indeed,  was  he  of  the  merits  of  the  ode  (which, 
however,  he  slightly  altered  for  the  better  in  subsequent 
editions),  that  he  informed  his  publishers  that  if  they  lost 
by  it,  he  would  decline  to  accept  the  whole  sum  of  £200 
which  they  had  offered  him.  "  I  consider  it,''  he  wrote, 
"  quite  a  sufficient  loss  if  you  do  not  gain  by  it.''  ^ 

The  Laureate's  opinion  of  the  Wellington  ode  has  been 
amply  confirmed  by  the  judgment  of  posterity,  which 
is  not  overstated  by  Sir  Alfred  Lyall  when  he  says  : 
"It  is  probably  the  best  poem  on  a  national  event  that 
has  ever  been  struck  off  by  a  Laureate  under  the  sudden, 
impatient  spur  of  the  moment."  ^  The  Wellington  ode 
is  solemn,  grand,  sublime.  It  breaks  upon  the  ear  like 
the  pealing  of  a  great  organ.  No  more  noble  or  dignified 
expression  of  a  nation's  grief  is  to  be  found  in  the  English 
tongue.  The  poem  is  too  long,  and,  happily,  too  well 
known  to  be  quoted  in  full,  but  it  is  difficult  to  refrain 
from  recalling  the  muffled  music  of  the  opening  lines — 


Bury  the  Great  Duke 

With  an  empire's  lamentation. 
Let  us  bury  the  Great  Duke 

To  the  noise  of  the  moiarning  of  a  mighty  nation, 

1  Memoir,  i,  362-3. 

*  Memoir,  i,  362. 

*  Life  of   Tennyson  (E.M.L.),  p.  77. 


264  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Mourning  when  their  leaders  fall, 
Warriors  carry  the  warrior's  pall, 
And  sorrow  darkens  hamlet  and  hall. 

II 

Where  shall  we  lay  the  man  whom  we  deplore  ? 
Here,  in  streaming  London's  central  roar. 
Let  the  sound  of  those  he  wrought  for. 
And  the  feet  of  those  he  fought  for. 
Echo  round  his  bones  for  evermore. 

Ill 

Lead  out  the  pageant  :  sad  and  slow. 

As  fits  an  universal  woe, 

Let  the  long  long  procession  go, 

And  let  the  sorrowing  crowd  about  it  grow. 

And  let  the  mournful  martial  music  blow ; 

The  last  great  Englishman  is  low. 

The  Crimean  war  gave  Tennyson  another  opportunity 
of  proving  his  singular  power  of  giving  vivid  and 
memorable  poetic  expression  to  the  feelings  and  desires 
of  patriotic  Britons.  He  followed  the  fortunes  of  the 
conflict  with  the  keenest  interest,  and  was  constantl}^ 
on  the  look  out  for  some  incident  which  would  lend 
itself  to  poetical  treatment.  When  tidings  arrived  of 
the  battle  of  the  Alma,  the  Laureate  wrote  the  first 
verse  of  a  song  entitled.  The  Alma  River,  which  his  wife 
finished  and  set  to  music.  Tennyson's  lines  are  as 
follows — 

Frenchman,  a  hand  in  thine  ! 
Our  flags  have  waved  together  ! 

Let  us  drink  to  the  health  of  thine  and  mine 
At  the  battle  of  Alma  River,  i 

In  December,  1854,  the  Laureate  was  thrilled  by  the 
Times'  description  of  the  charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  at 
Balaclava,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  had  committed  to 
paper  that  immortal  war-song,  The  Charge  of  the  Light 
Brigade.     The  Times'  correspondent,  in  his  account  of 

»  Memoir,  i,  380. 


ALFRED,   LORD   TENNYSON  265 

the  episode,  had  used  the  phrase  "  some  one  had 
blundered,"  and  on  this  Tennyson  rang  the  changes  with 
magnificent  effect.  Curiously  enough,  the  phrase  was 
objected  to,  and  the  poet  put  forth  a  revised  version  in 
1855,  in  which  it  was  omitted.  But  he  soon  realised 
that  he  himself  had  most  grievously  blundered  in 
hearkening  to  the  counsel  of  his  friends  ;  and,  in  later 
editions  of  the  poem,  he  wisely  retained  its  original  and 
infinitely  superior  form.  The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade 
is  an  undying  paean  to  British  valour.  The  fire  and  the 
fury  of  the  poem  are  overpowering,  and  we  are  almost 
irresistibly  compelled  to  exclaim,  with  Dominie  Sampson, 
"  Prodigious  "  !  It  would  be  superfluous  to  quote  a 
poem  which  every  schoolboy  knows.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  Tennyson  has  covered  the  memorable  charge  of 
"  the  six  hundred  "  at  Balaclava  with  unfading  glory. 
To  the  end  of  time,  every  Briton  capable  of  being  moved 
by  deeds  of  martial  heroism,  will 

Honour  the  charge  they  made  ! 
Honour  the  Light  Brigade, 
Noble  six  hundred  ! 

The  outbreak  of  the  Indian  Mutiny  in  1857,  threw  the 
country  once  more  into  a  whirlpool  of  excitement,  and 
again  the  Laureate  sought  to  fittingly  commemorate  the 
gallantry  of  our  soldiers.  But  neither  in  The  Defence 
of  Lucknow  nor  in  the  lines  he  wrote  on  the  arrival  of 
the  news  of  the  death  of  Havelock,  did  he  attain  to  the 
success  which  had  crowned  The  Charge  of  the  Light 
Brigade.  The  former  poem  is  too  long,  and  in  some 
places  over-wrought,  with  the  result  that  it  fails  to 
sustain  interest.  Nevertheless,  it  contains  passages  full 
of  life  and  animation  ;  and  in  the  concluding  stanza, 
where  he  describes  the  relief  of  Lucknow,  the  Laureate 
is  at  his  best. 


266  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Hark  cannonade,  fusillade  !    is  it  true  what  was  told  by  the 

scout, 
Outram  and   Havelock  breaking  their  way  through  the  fell 

mutineers  ? 
Surely  the  pibroch  of  Europe  is  ringing  again  in  our  ears  ! 
All  on  a  sudden  the  garrison  utter  a  jubilant  shout, 
Havelock's  glorious  Highlanders  answer  with  conquering  cheers, 
Sick  from  the  hospital  echo  them,  women  and  children  come  out, 
Blessing  the  wholesome  white  faces  of  Havelock's  good  fusileers, 
Kissing  the  war-harden 'd  hand  of  the  Highlander  wet  with 

their  tears  ! 
Dance  to  the  pibroch  ! — saved  !    we  are  saved  ! — is  it  you  ? 

is  it  you  ? 
Saved  by  the  valour  of  Havelock,  saved  by  the  blessing  of 

Heaven  ! 
"  Hold  it  for  fifteen  days  !  "  we  have  held  it  for  eighty-seven  ! 
And  ever  aloft  on  the  palace  roof  the  old  banner  of  England 

blew. 

In  connection  with  the  wedding  of  the  Princess  Royal, 
Tennyson,  at  the  request  of  the  Queen,  tacked  on  two 
stanzas  to  the  National  Anthem,  which  were  sung  at  a 
concert  at  Buckingham  Palace  on  the  evening  of  the 
wedding  day.  The  verses,  which  were  published  in 
the  Times  of  26th  January,  1858,  are  as  follows — ■ 

God    bless   our   Prince   and   Bride  ! 
God  keep  their  lands  allied, 

God  save  the  Queen  ! 
Clothe  them  with  righteousness. 
Crown  them  with  happiness, 
Them  with  all  blessings  bless, 

God  save  the  Queen. 

Fair  fall  this  hallow 'd  hour 
Farewell  our  England's  flower, 

God  save  the  Queen  ! 
Farewell,  fair  rose  of  May  ! 
Let  both  the  peoples  say, 
God  bless  thy  marriage-day, 

God  bless  the  Queen. 

In  1859,  Louis  Napoleon's  vigorous  campaign  in 
Lombardy  against  Austria  gave  rise  to  gloomy  fore- 
bodings  that    Britain    might    again    be   plunged   into   a 


ALFRED,   LORD  TENNYSON  267 

European  conflict.  The  Laureate  thereupon  uttered  a 
fresh  call  to  patriotism  in  Riflemen,  Form  !  which  was 
intended  to  reinforce  an  order  issued  from  the  War 
Office  approving  of  the  formation  of  volunteer  rifle 
corps.  Tennyson  was  a  thoroughgoing  conscriptionist, 
and  counselled  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Volunteer  move- 
ment not  to  rest  from  his  labours  until  it  was  "  the 
law  of  the  land  that  every  male  child  in  it  shall  be 
trained  to  the  use  of  arms."  i  Riflemen,  Form !  undoubtedly 
influenced  the  growth  of  the  Volunteer  movement. 
"  It  will  please  you  to  hear,"  wrote  Coventry  Patmore 
to  Tennyson  in  May,  1859,  "  that  Riflemen,  Form  !  is 
being  responded  to.  I  hear  that  four  hundred  clerks 
of  the  War  Oflice  alone  have  at  once  answered  to  the 
Government  invitation."  ^  Nor  is  it  diflicult  to  under- 
stand the  enthusiasm  and  practical  sympathy  which 
the  poem  evoked. 

There  is  a  sound  of  thunder  afar, 

Storm  in  the  South  that  darkens  the  day  ! 

Storm  of  battle  and  thunder  of  war  ! 
Well  if  it  do  not  roll  our  way. 

Storm,  Storm,  Riflemen  form  ! 

Ready,  be  ready  against  the  storm  ! 

Riflemen,  Riflemen,  Riflemen  form  ! 

Be  not  deaf  to  the  sound  that  warns. 

Be  not  gull'd  by  a  despot's  plea  ! 
Are  figs  of  thistles  ?    or  grapes  of  thorns  ? 

How  can  a  despot  feel  with  the  Free  ? 
Form,  Form,  Riflemen  Form  ! 
Ready,   be  ready  to  meet  the  storm  ! 
Riflemen,  Riflemen,  Riflemen  form  ! 

Let  your  reforms  for  a  moment  go  ! 

Look  to  your  butts,  and  take  good  aims  ! 
Better  a  rotten  borough  or  so 

Than  a  rotten  fleet  and  a  city  in  flames  ! 
Storm,  Storm,  Riflemen  form  ! 
Ready,  be  ready  against  the  storm  ! 
Riflemen,  Riflemen,  Riflemen  form  ! 

1    Memoir,  i,  436. 
"    Ibid.,  i,  437. 


268  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Form,  be  ready  to  do  or  die  ! 

Form  in  Freedom's  name  and  the  Queen's  ! 
True  we  have  got — such  a  faithful  ally 

That  only  the  Devil  can  tell  what  he  means. 
Form,  Form,  Riflemen  Form  I 
Ready,  be  ready  to  meet  the  storm  ! 
Riflemen,  Riflemen,  Riflemen  form  ! 

When  the  first  four  of  the  twelve  Idylls  of  the  King 
were  pubHshed  in  1859,  no  one  greeted  their  appearance 
more  heartily  than  the  Prince  Consort.  As  has  already 
been  mentioned,  His  Royal  Highness  was  also  one  of 
the  first  to  herald  the  praises  of  In  Memoriam,  and  his 
admiration  had  not  a  little  to  do  with  the  appointment 
of  the  author  to  the  Laureateship.  In  1860  the  Prince 
again  testified  his  interest  in  Tennyson's  work  by 
asking  him  to  write  his  name  in  a  volume  of  Idylls  of 
the  King.  "  You  would  thus,"  he  wrote,  "  add  a 
peculiar  interest  to  the  book  containing  those  beautiful 
songs,  from  the  perusal  of  which  I  derived  the  greatest 
enjoyment."!  The  Prince's  death  in  1861  was  a  great 
blow  to  the  Laureate,  who  incorporated  in  his  Exhibition 
ode  a  memorial  couplet — 

O  silent  father  of  our  Kings  to  be 
Mourn 'd   in   this  golden   hour  of  jubilee. 

Tennyson  also  dedicated  to  His  Royal  Highness  the 
second  edition  of  Idylls  of  the  King,  the  first  copies  of 
which  he  forwarded  to  the  Princess  Alice,  who  replied 
that  the  poet  "could  not  have  chosen  a  more  beautiful 
or  true  testimonial  to  the  memory  of  him  who  was  so 
really  good  and  noble."  ^ 

Nor  was  the  Queen  less  cordial  in  her  appreciation  of 
the  genius  of  her  Poet  Laureate.  At  Osborne,  on  an 
April  day  in  1862,  Her  Majesty  and  Tennyson  met  for 
the  first   time  after  the  death  of  the   Prince   Consort. 

^  Memoir,  i,  455. 
«  Ibid.,  \,  480. 


ALFRED,   LORD  TENNYSON  269 

The  Queen  said,  among  other  kind  things,  that  next 
to  the  Bible,  In  Memoriam  was  her  comfort,  the  Prince 
being  so  Uke  the  picture  of  Arthur  Hallam  in  the  poem.  ^ 
The  Laureate  was  much  affected,  and  from  tj^iat  day 
the  ties  which  bound  him  to  the  Royal  Family  were 
drawn  closer. 

The  marriage  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  in  1863,  brought 
the  Laureate  once  more  to  the  front,  and  A  Welcome  to 
Alexandra  may  well  be  regarded  as  one  of  his  happiest 
efforts.  Tennyson  struck  the  right  note,  which  he  did 
not  do  in  the  ode  in  which  he  welcomed  Marie  Alexan- 
drovna  on  her  marriage  to  the  Duke  of  Edinburgh 
in  1874.  A  Welcome  to  Alexandra  is  a  model  of  its 
kind,  and,  if  it  has  not  yet  lost  its  charm,  it  is  not 
merely  because  the  "  Sea-Kings'  daughter,"  happily,  still 
survives,  but  because  of  its  inherent  poetical  worth. 
The  opening  lines  have  a  haunting  beauty. 

Sea-Kings'  daughter  from  over  the  sea, 

Alexandra  ! 
Saxon  and  Norman  and  Dane  are  we, 
But  all  of  us  Danes  in  our  welcome  of  thee, 

Alexandra  ! 
Welcome  her,  thunders  of  fort  and  of  fleet  ! 
Welcome  her,  thundering  cheer  of  the  street  ! 
Welcome  her,  all  things  youthful  and  sweet, 
Scatter  the  blossom  under  her  feet  ! 
Break,  happy  land,  into  earlier  flowers  ! 
Make  music,  O  bird,  in  the  new-budded  bowers  ! 
Blazon  your  mottoes  of  blessing  and  prayer  ! 
Welcome  her,  welcome  her,  all  that  is  ours  ! 

In  1872  Tennyson  completed  Idylls  of  the  King,  and 
for  this,  his  most  important,  perhaps  his  greatest,  work, 
he  wrote  an  epilogue  To  the  Queen,  in  which  he  makes 
felicitous  allusion  to  the  boundless  enthusiasm  which 
greeted  the  recovery  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  (afterwards 
Edward  VII)  from  a  six  weeks'  attack  of  typhoid  fever. 

^  Memoir,  i,  485. 


270  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

O  Loyal  to  the  royal  in  thyself, 
And  loyal  to  thy  land,  as  this  to  thee — 
Bear  witness,  that  rememberable  day. 
When,  pale  as  yet,  and  fever-worn,  the  Prince 
Who  scarce  had  pluck'd  his  flickering  life  again 
From  halfway  down  the  shadow  of  the  grave, 
Past  with  thee  thro'  thy  people  and  their  love, 
And  London  roll'd  one  tide  of  joy  thro'  all 
Her  trebled  millions,  and  loud  leagues  of  man. 

Tennyson  had  the  singular  experience  of  being  offered 
a  baronetcy,  first  by  a  Liberal  Premier,  and  then,  in  the 
following  year,  by  a  Conservative  Premier.  One  of  the 
poet's  closest  friends  and  admirers  was  Gladstone. 
When  that  statesman  was  head  of  the  Government  in 
1873,  he  desired  that  a  baronetcy  should  be  conferred 
on  the  Laureate.  The  poet,  however,  took  the  some- 
what unusual  course  of  declining  the  honour  for  himself, 
but  expressing  a  wish  that  his  son  should  become  a 
baronet  in  his  father's  lifetime.  Gladstone  was  not 
averse  to  the  suggestion,  but  Tennyson's  son  was,  and 
the  matter  thereupon  dropped. 

The  honour  was  again  offered  by  Disraeli,  and  again 
declined  by  the  poet  for  himself,  though,  as  before,  he 
wished  it  for  his  son,  with  this  difference,  that  instead 
of  being  conferred  during  his  (the  Laureate's)  life,  it 
should  now  be  bestowed  after  his  death.  Disraeli,  how- 
ever, considered  that  such  a  course  was  contrary  to  all 
precedent. 

In  1883  Gladstone  made  another  attempt  to  honour 
the  Laureate — this  time  by  recommending  him  to  the 
Queen  for  a  peerage.  The  subject  was  first  mooted  in 
September  of  that  year,  while  Gladstone  and  the  poet 
were  on  a  cruise  together  in  the  Pembroke  Castle.  On 
9th  October  the  Queen  wrote  from  Balmoral  Castle  that 
it  would  afford  her  "  much  pleasure  to  confer  on  my  Poet 
Laureate,  who  is  so  universally  admired  and  respected, 
a  mark  of  my  recognition  of  the  great  services  he  has 


ALFRED,  LORD  TENNYSON      271 

rendered  to  literature."^  But  Tennyson  had  consider- 
able misgivings  at  parting  with  his  "  simple  name,"  and 
it  was  not  untU  January  of  the  folloxAdng  year  that  he 
decided  to  accept  the  peerage,  which  had  been 
persistently  pressed  on  him. 

Tennyson  was  now  seventy-five,  and  though  he  lived 
for  nearly  nine  years  longer,  he  published  nothing  which 
added  materially  to  his  already  shining  lyrical  reputa- 
tion. His  relations  with  Royalty  remained  close  till  the 
very  end.  At  the  request  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  he 
wrote  an  ode  in  celebration  of  the  opening  of  the  Indian 
and  Colonial  Exhibition  by  the  Queen,  the  last  stanza 
of  which  has  a  strong  imperial  flavour. 

Sharers  of  our  glorious  past, 
Brothers,  must  we  part  at  last  ? 
Shall  we  not  thro'  good  and  ill 
Cleave  to  one  another  still  ? 
Britain's  myriad  voices  call, 
Sons,  be  welded  each  and  all. 
Into  one  imperial  whole, 
One  \vith  Britain,  heart  and  soul  ! 
One  life,  one  flag,  one  fleet,  one  Throne  ! 
Britons,  hold  your  own  ! 

In    1885,    on    the    occasion    of   the   marriage    of    the 

Princess  Beatrice  to  Prince  Henry  of  Battenburg,  the 

Laureate  wrote  a  poem  which  exhibits  that  fine  blending 

of  sense  and  sound  so  characteristic  of  Tennyson's  poetry. 

The  Mother  weeps 
At  that  white  funeral  of  the  single  life, 
Her  maiden  daughter's  marriage  ;  and  her  tears 
Are  half  of  pleasure,  half  of  pain — the  child 
Is  happy — ev'n  in  leaving  her,  but  Thou, 
True  daughter,  whose  all-faithful,  filial  eyes 
Have  seen  the  loneliness  of  earthly  thrones. 
Wilt  neither  quit  the  widow 'd  Crown  nor  let 
This  later  light  of  Love  have  risen  in  vain, 
But  moving  thro'  the  Mother's  home,  between 
The  two  that  love  thee,  lead  a  summer  life, 
Sway'd  by  each  Love,  and  swaying  to  each  Love. 

'  Memoir,  ii,    436. 


272  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

The  death  of  the  Duke  of  Clarence  in  1892,  provided 
Tennyson  with  a  theme  for  the  last  poem  he  wrote  in 
his  official  literary  capacity.  It  was  a  fitting  close  to 
his  Laureateship,  by  far  the  longest,  and  incomparably 
the  most  brilliant — 

The  bridal  garland  falls  upon  the  bier, 
The  shadow  of  a  crown,  that  o'er  him  hung, 
Has  vanish'd  in  the  shadow  cast  by  Death. 

So  princely,  tender,  truthful,  reverent,  pure — 
Mourn  !    That  a  world-wide  Empire  mourns  with  you, 
That  all  the  Thrones  are  clouded  by  your  loss, 
Were  slender  solace.     Yet  be  comforted  ; 
For  if  this  earth  be  ruled  by    Perfect  Love, 
Then,  after  his  brief  range  of  blameless  days, 
The  toll  of  funeral  in  an  Angel  ear 
Sounds  happier  than  the  merriest  marriage-bell. 
The  face  of  Death  is  toward  the  Sun  of  Life, 
His  shadow  darkens  earth  :  his  truer  name 
Is  ''  Onward,"  no  discordance  in  the  roll 
And  march  of  that  Eternal  Harmony 
Whereto  the  worlds  beat  time,  tho'  faintly  heard 
Until  the  great  Hereafter.     Mourn  in  hope  ! 

When  Queen  Victoria  heard  of  Tennyson's  death,  Her 
Majesty  sent  the  following  message  to  his  son,  Hallam  : 
"  The  Queen  deeply  laments  and  mourns  her  noble  Poet 
Laureate,  who  will  be  so  universally  regretted,  but  he 
has  left  undying  works  behind  him  which  we  shall  ever 
treasure."^ 

It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  Queen's  words 
found  an  echo  in  the  heart  of  every  patriotic  Briton. 
For  the  first  time  in  history  the  death  of  the  Poet 
Laureate  was  felt  to  be  a  national  loss.  And  the 
reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  Tennyson  so  identified  him- 
self with  the  strongest  feelings  and  aspirations  of  his 
countrymen,  and  uttered  so  lofty  a  patriotism  in  verse 
unrivalled  for  sweetness  and  purity,  dignity  and  grace, 
that  he  could  hardly  fail  to  become  a  popular  idol. 
Moreover,  his  exalted  character,  and  his  single-minded 

'    Memoir,  ii,  455. 


ALFRED,    LORD   TENNYSON  273 

devotion  to  everything  that  was  pure  and  lovely  and 
of  good  report,  made  him  an  inspirational  force  of  the 
most  beneficent  kind.  Unlike  Dryden,  Tennyson  com- 
bined poetical  genius  of  the  highest  order  with  an  irre- 
proachable character.  He  conferred  far  more  honour 
on  the  Laureateship  than  the  Laureateship  could  confer 
on  him. 


l8-(334i) 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ALFRED   AUSTIN 

The  almost  unbroken  continuity  of  the  Laureateship  is 
an  historical  fact  of  considerable  significance.  Amid 
all  the  stress  of  political  and  social  upheaval,  the  clash 
of  arms,  and  the  supplanting  of  one  dynasty  by  another, 
Poet  Laureate  has  succeeded  Poet  Laureate  with  but 
two  brief  interruptions  during  a  period  of  nearly  300 
years.  The  first  interruption  occurred  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  II,  when  about  two  years  elapsed  between  the 
death  of  D'Avenant  and  the  formal  appointment  of 
Dryden  in  1670  ;  the  second  did  not  occur  until  the 
closing  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century,  three  years  and 
three  months  elapsing  between  the  death  of  Tennyson 
(October,  1892)  and  the  announcement  of  his  successor, 
Alfred  Austin,  on  New  Year's  Day,  1896. 

The  tardiness  in  the  latter  case  was  due  to  the  indecision 
of  the  then  Prime  Minister,  Lord  Salisbury,  who,  it  must 
be  confessed,  had  rather  a  difficult  part  to  play.  There 
were  two  poets  whose  claims  to  succeed  Tennyson,  as 
far  as  poetry  was  concerned,  were  incontestable — William 
Morris  and  Swinburne.  But,  even  assuming  the  Laureate- 
ship  would  have  been  acceptable  to  either,  which  may 
well  be  doubted,  the  pronounced  Socialism  of  the  one 
and  the  revolutionary  ideas  of  the  other,  barred  their 
appointment  to  the  office  of  Court  poet. 

Neither  of  these  poets  being  available,  Lord  Salisbury 
had  to  look  to  the  lesser  fry,  and,  in  particular,  the 
claims  of  three  minor  poets  were  pressed  on  his  atten- 
tion— those  of  Sir  Edwin  Arnold,  Sir  Lewis  Morris,  and 
Alfred  Austin.  But  the  Prime  Minister  hesitated,  for 
neither  Arnold,  nor  Morris,  nor  Austin  were  capable  of 
maintaining  undimmed  the  lustre  of  the  poetical  crown 

274 


Photo  by 


ALFRED   AUSTIN 


ALFRED  AUSTIN  275 

which  Tennyson  had  laid  down.  All  three,  it  was  felt, 
would  discharge  the  duties  of  the  office  with  a  certain 
amount  of  credit  ;  but  what  Lord  Salisbury  wanted  was 
another  Tennyson,  and  another  Tennyson  he  could 
not  get. 

And  so,  for  three  years  and  more,  he  kept  the  post 
vacant  in  the  vain  hope  of  the  Laureate  he  desiderated 
turning  up ;  but,  at  last,  on  30th  December,  1895,  he 
wrote  to  Austin  to  inform  him  that  the  Queen  had 
approved  of  his  appointment  as  Tennyson's  successor. 
Thus  it  came  about  that  the  office  was  bestowed  on  a 
man  who  combined  with  his  poetical  accomplishments 
an  ardent  political  partisanship.  With  the  Prime 
Minister,  Austin  had  corresponded  on  political  subjects 
for  many  years.  The  new  Laureate  had  also  done 
valiant  service  for  the  Conservative  party  in  the  Press 
and  at  the  polls,  a  circumstance  which  Lord  Salisbury 
warmly  acknowledged  in  July,  1902,  when  he  wrote  to 
Austin  to  say  that  he  could  not  leave  office  without 
telling  him  how  "  useful  "  he  had  been  "  on  more  than 
one  critical  occasion."  ^  Austin  signalised  the  occasion 
by  inditing  the  following  sonnet  to  his  political  chief, 
which  he  entitled,  Thou  Good  and  Faithftd  Servant — 

Great,  wise,  and  good,  too  near  for  men  to  know, 

Till  years  shall  pass,  how  good,  how  wise,  how  great. 
And  Time  shall  scan,  with  vision  clear  if  slow, 

This  modest  master-servant  of  the  State. 
The  protestations  vehement,  the  brawl 

Of  jostling  market-place,  the  deafening  blare 
Of  factious  battle — he  disdained  them  all, 

For  wisdom  pointed,  duty  lay,  elsewhere. 
Patient  he  worked,  intent  he  waited  till. 

No  more  by  conscience  bound  to  guard  and  guide. 
The  hopes  of  seed-time  harvest  might  fulfil. 

Then  hung  his  sickle  by  his  own  fireside. 
But  days  unborn  will  keep  his  record  green. 
The  nobler  Cecil  of  a  nobler  Queen. 

^   Autobiography,  ii,  179. 


276  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

Austin's  appointment,  therefore,  seemed  uncommonly 
like  a  reversion  to  the  political  traditions  of  the  Laureate- 
ship  of  earlier  days.  Moreover,  it  was  not  a  very  happy 
appointment,  inasmuch  as  Tennyson  was  succeeded  by 
a  poet  who  had  once  upon  a  time  reviled  him  as  well  as 
Browning,  Matthew  Arnold,  and  other  Victorian  leaders 
of  literature.  It  is  true  that  Austin's  volume  of  short- 
sighted criticism,  The  Poetry  of  the  Period  (1870),  belonged 
to  his  wayward  and  impetuous  youth,  and  that  when  he 
came  to  the  years  of  poetical  understanding,  he  saw  the 
error  of  his  ways,  and  not  only  withdrew  the  obnoxious 
volume  from  circulation  but  sedulously  cultivated  the 
acquaintance  of  "  the  greatest  Poet  of  our  time,  and 
certainly  the  most  popular,  my  never-to-be-forgotten 
predecessor  in  the  Laureateship."  ^  But  while  confes- 
sion is  good  for  the  soul,  and  manly  retractation  a 
thing  most  to  be  admired,  one  cannot  but  recognise 
that  there  was  something  incongruous  in  the  idea  of  a 
Laureate  so  beloved  as  Tennyson  was  being  succeeded  by 
a  poet  who  had  disparaged  his  writings  in  no  half-hearted 
terms. 

More  in  sorrow  than  in  anger  must  we  regard  the  critic 
who  could  deliver  it  as  his  judgment  that  Tennyson  was 
not  a  great  poet.  This  was  bad  enough,  but  Austin 
went  further.  To  his  youthful  fancy,  not  only  had  the 
author  of  In  Memoriam  no  claim  to  a  place  in  the  first 
rank,  but  his  place  in  the  second  was  extremely  doubtful. 
Indeed,  the  chances  were  that  Tennyson  would  finally 
be  classed  among  the  third-rate  poets.  And  this 
was  given  forth  as  no  hasty  pronouncement,  but  as 
a  calm  and  deliberate  judgment.  Austin  had  read  and 
pondered  all  that  the  Laureate  had  written,  but  had 
failed  to  discover  a  single  example  of  a  noble  thought 
clothed  in  an  appropriate  language  and  imagery. 

1    Autobiography,  ii,  219. 


ALFRED   AUSTIN  277 

It  is,  of  course,  unpleasant,  though  necessary,  to  recall 
a  critical  effort  of  which,  it  is  only  fair  to  say,  Austin 
repented  in  his  later  years,  though  his  repentance  was 
somewhat  quahfied.  While  he  saw  fit  to  withdraw  The 
Poetry  of  the  Period  from  circulation  in  1873,  he  confesses 
even  in  his  Autobiography ,  written  during  the  last  years 
of  his  life,  that  he  still  thought  there  was  "  a  strong 
element  of  truth  "  ^  in  the  volume.  It  was  the  tone 
rather  than  the  opinions  expressed  in  that  work  that 
Austin  deemed  unfortunate. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Austin,  from  being  a  contemner  of 
Tennyson's  poetry,  became,  in  later  years,  a  rather 
servile  worshipper.  He  apparently  thought  that  when 
he  had  buried  The  Poetry  of  the  Period,  Tennyson  should 
have  received  him  with  open  arms.  In  the  Autobiography 
we  read  that  Tennyson's  "sensitiveness  .  .  .  rendered  the 
making  of  his  acquaintance,  which  I  much  desired,  for 
a  long  time,  impracticable."  ^  And  no  wonder!  For 
several  years  the  Laureate  kept  his  belated  admirer  at 
a  distance  ;  but  in  1884,  the  year  in  which  Tennyson 
was  raised  to  the  Peerage,  Austin  met  him  for  the  first 
time  at  Aldworth.  The  interview,  according  to  Austin, 
seems  to  have  been  wonderfully  cordial,  though  Tenny- 
son committed  the  venial  sin  of  reminding  the  younger 
poet  that  he  had  once  abused  him  mightily,  and  had 
accused  him  of  plagiarising  Keats.  "  Did  I  ?  "  answered 
Austin  nonchalantly.  "  At  any  rate,  it  was  long  ago."  '^ 
From  this  time  onwards,  Austin  liked  Tennyson  exceed- 
ingly, and  he  believed  that  his  goodwill  was  reciprocated, 
the  Laureate  ever  afterwards  receiving  him  most  kindly. 
Tennyson  also  presented  him  with  two  of  his  books  with 
his  own  inscription  in  them.     Austin,  on  the  other  hand, 

^  Autobiographv,  ii,  219. 
«  ii.  219. 
»  ii,  221. 


278  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

wished  to  present  the  Laureate  with  a  branch  of  the 
Poet's  Bay,  which  he  had  found  in  full  bloom  when 
visiting  Delphi  in  1881,  but  never  had  an  oppor- 
tunity. On  Tennyson's  death,  however,  he  sent  the 
branch  to  his  son  Hallam,  and  it  was  placed  inside  the 
coffin  along  with  Lady  Tennyson's  roses  and  a  volume 
of  Shakespeare.  And  as  if  to  fill  the  cup  of  reconcilia- 
tion to  overflowing,  Austin  wrote  his  elegiac  poem.  The 
Passing  of  Merlin. 

Merlin  has  gone,  Merlin  the  Wizard  who  found, 

In  the  Past's  ghmmering  tide,  and  hailed  him  King, 
Arthur,  great  Uther's  son,  and  so  did  sing 

The  mystic  glories  of  the  Table  Round, 

That  ever  its  name  will  Uve  so  long  as  Song  shall  sound. 

Merlin  has  gone.  Merlin  who  followed  the  Gleam, 

And  made  us  follow  it ;  the  flying  tale 

Of  the  Last  Tournament,  the  Holy  Grail, 
And  Arthur's  Passing  ;  till  the  Enchanter's  dream 
Dwells  with  us  still  awake,  no  visionary  theme. 

But  though  Tennyson  and  his  successor  in  the  Laureate- 
ship  may  have  sworn  friendship  at  the  last,  the  two  poets 
were  essentially  different  in  aim,  in  outlook,  in  character, 
and,  needless  to  say,  in  achievement.  Tennyson's  posi- 
tion as  an  English  poet  is  unique,  and  to  judge  Austin's 
work  by  the  standard  set  up  by  the  author  of  In 
Memoriam  and  Idylls  of  the  King,  would  be  as  unreason- 
able as  to  expect  a  child  to  possess  a  knowledge  of 
quaternions.  As  a  master  of  lyrical  expression,  Tenny- 
son had  few  equals,  whereas  the  most  that  can  be  said 
of  Austin's  lyrics  is  that  they  are  sweet  and  graceful. 
A  noble  patriotism  is  the  dominant  characteristic  of 
Tennyson's  official  verse  :  perhaps  the  most  outstanding 
feature  of  Austin's  is  a  sincere  and  intimate  love  of 
Nature.     It   was   the  latter's  view,   too,   that   the  best 


ALFRED  AUSTIN  279 

poetry  is  romantic  in  feeling  and  classical  in  expression. 
Tennyson  was  unobtrusive  and  courted  privacy.  Austin, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  a  publicist,  a  politician  who  rather 
relished  party  conflict,  and  a  journalist.  In  other  respects, 
too,  the  careers  of  the  two  poets  were  strangely  diversified. 
But  Austin's  dissimilarity  will  best  perhaps  be  emphasised 
by  a  brief  recital  of  the  main  incidents  of  his  long  and 
not  unattractive  career. 

Alfred  Austin  was  bom  on  30th  May,  1835,  at 
Headingley,  near  Leeds.  He  belonged  to  a  Roman 
Catholic  family,  to  which  faith  he  himself  was 
unfeignedly  loyal.  His  father,  Joseph  Austin,  was  a 
wool-stapler,  while  his  mother  was  a  sister  of  Joseph 
Locke,  the  famous  railway  engineer,  who,  in  the  later 
years  of  his  life,  represented  Honiton  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  Both  his  parents  being  members  of  the  Roman 
communion,  he  was  educated  first  at  the  religious 
seminary  at  Stonyhurst,  and  then  at  Oscott,  a  college 
in  the  vicinity  of  Birmingham  which  owed  much  to  the 
inspiring  influence  of  Cardinal  Newman.  His  religion 
making  it  impossible  for  him  to  study  either  at  Oxford 
or  Cambridge,  he  entered  London  University,  where  he 
took  his  degree  in  1854.  He  began  life  as  a  barrister, 
having  been  called  to  the  Bar  after  studying  for  three 
years  at  the  Inner  Temple  ;  but  inheriting  some  means 
at  his  father's  death,  he  forsook  the  law  for  literature 
and  travel. 

Austin  teUs  us  in  his  Autobiography  that  what  first 
set  him  doting  on  a  poetical  career  was  his  father  reading 
to  him  the  first  canto  of  Scott's  Lady  of  the  Lake.  "  From 
that  moment  I  regarded  poetry  as  the  greatest  thing  in 
life,  and  to  be  a  poet  the  most  of  all  things  to  be  desired."  ^ 
Austin  began  to  clamber  up  the  slopes  of  Parnassus 
pretty  early.     At  nineteen,  through  the  liberality  of  his 

*    Autobiography,  i,  69, 


280  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

uncle,  he  published  anonymously  a  long  poem  entitled, 
Randolph  :  A  Tale  of  Polish  Grief ;  but  its  reception 
was  not  encouraging,  only  seventeen  copies  being 
sold. 

In  those  far-off  days  the  future  Poet  Laureate  drank 
deeply  at  the  wells  of  Scott  and  Byron.  The  romantic 
glamour  of  the  one  and  the  pungent  satire  of  the  other 
mfluenced  him  deeply,  and  most  of  his  early  poems 
clearly  show  that  he  lit  his  candle  with  their  torch. 
Of  Byron  he  was  intensely  fond.  "  From  my  earliest 
years,"  he  records,  "  I  have  always  had  the  highest 
estimate  of  Byron  as  a  Poet."  ^  And  he  might  have 
added  that  he  had  some  admiration  for  the  man  as 
well,  for  when  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe  published  in  1870 
Lady  Byron  Vindicated,  Austin  replied  with  a  vindication 
of  Lord  Byron. 

The  Season  :  A  Satire  (1861),  the  poem  which  first 
brought  Austin  into  notice,  is  avowedly  modelled  on  his 
favourite  poet.  Probably  Browning  had  it  in  mind 
when,  many  years  after,  he  retaliated  on  Austin  for 
having  written  bitterly  of  him  in  Poetry  of  the  Period. 
But  whether  this  be  so  or  not,  more  than  one  critic 
expressed  the  opinion  that  there  had  been  nothing  like 
Austin's  satire  since  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers. 
The  poem,  which  purported  to  be  a  candid  treatment 
of  contemporary  manners  and  morals,  quickly  ran  into 
a  second  edition. 

Austin  was  wont  to  look  back  on  the  reception 
accorded  The  Season  with  the  keenest  pleasure,  since 
he  believed  the  poem  contained  the  germ  of  everything 
in  his  future  poems.  "  A  disdain  of  habitual  frivolity, 
ostentatious  opulence,  of  material  worldliness,  and 
vulgar  ambition  .  .  .  together  with  love  of  a  rural  and 
simple  life,  tempered  only  by  some  acquaintance  uith 

*  Autobiography ,  ii,  9 


ALFRED   AUSTIN  281 

....  things  in  general  and  public  affairs,"  were,  in 
Austin's  view,  the  distinctive  features  of  his  verse.  ^ 

Next  to  poetry,  politics  and  journalism  interested 
Austin  most,  and  from  the  early  sixties  of  last  century 
until  near  the  close  of  his  long  life,  he  maintained  an 
active  connection  with  both.  He  was  a  strong  Con- 
servative, and  not  even  his  devotion  to  the  Muses  could 
prevent  him  breaking  a  lance  in  defence  of  the 
principles  of  his  party.  On  two  occasions  he  made 
unsuccessful  attempts  to  enter  the  House  of  Commons. 
The  first  was  in  1865,  when  he  contested  one  of  the 
seats  for  Taunton,  and  the  second  was  in  1880,  when  he 
stood  for  Dewsbury. 

Frustrated  in  his  hopes  to  become  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, Austin  plied  his  pen  vigorously  on  behalf  of  his 
party,  and  was  for  many  years,  as  has  already  been 
indicated,  a  trusted  ally  of  the  late  Lord  Salisbury. 
When  he  was  appointed  Poet  Laureate,  he  felt  it  would 
be  more  consonant  with  the  national  character  of  his 
office  to  abstain  thenceforth  from  any  public  share  in 
party  politics,  but  this  excellent  resolution  was  but 
imperfectly  kept.  On  more  than  one  occasion  he  identi- 
fied his  official  lucubrations  with  undisguised  partisan- 
ship, by  which  he  incurred  much  adverse  criticism. 
This  was  strikingly  exemplified  in  1896,  when  he  rushed 
into  print  with  a  poem  in  praise  of  the  Jameson  Raid. 
Again,  on  the  eve  of  the  General  Election  in  1905,  he 
went  so  far  as  to  issue  a  pamphlet  from  the  headquarters 
of  the  Conservative  party  in  defence  of  the  House  of 
Lords. 

In  journalism,  too,  first  as  a  member  of  the  editorial 
staff  of  the  Standard,  and  subsequently  as  editor  of  the 
National  Review,  Austin  was  an  able  and  cogent 
exponent    of    Conservative    principles.     His    connection 

*  Autobiography,  i,  80. 


282  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

with  the  Standard  began  in  the  late  sixties  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  and  is  fully  detailed  in  his  informative 
Autobiography.  His  work  as  a  correspondent  at  the 
Ecumenical  Council  of  1870 ;  at  the  Prussian  head- 
quarters during  the  Franco-German  war  ;  and,  finally, 
at  the  Congress  of  Berlin  in  1878,  bore  high  testimony 
to  his  journalistic  capacity,  and  enhanced  the  reputation 
of  his  journal. 

But  while  immersed  in  politics  and  journalism,  Austin 
never  forgot  his  first  love.  His  literary  activity  was  at 
its  height  in  the  seventies  and  eighties,  when  he  pub- 
lished many  volumes  of  poetry,  and  contributed  verses 
on  all  sorts  of  subjects  to  magazines  and  newspapers. 
To  this  period  belonged  The  Golden  Age,  Interludes, 
Madonna  s  Child,  The  Tower  of  Babel  {"  a  celestial  love 
drama  "),  The  Human  Tragedy,  and  Lyrical  Poems — 
works  containing  many  passages  of  smooth  and  polished 
verse,  but  exhibiting  little  inspiration.  His  Lyrical 
Poems,  which  attracted  some  attention  at  the  time  of 
publication,  are  marked  by  freshness  and  kindly  feeling, 
though  they  lack  spontaneity.  Mr.  William  Watson,  in 
a  volume  of  selections  from  the  Lyrical  Poems,  remarks 
that  "  a  nobly  filial  love  of  Country,  and  a  tenderly 
passionate  love  of  the  country  are  the  two  dominant  notes 
of  Austin's  lyrics." 

In  1881  Austin  published  a  tragedy  entitled, 
Savonarola.  A  drama  in  verse.  Prince  Lucifer,  appeared 
in  1887,  the  year  of  Queen  Victoria's  Jubilee.  It  was 
dedicated  to  Her  Majesty,  whom  he  met  later,  and  who 
spoke  of  the  work  as  "  your  beautiful  poem."  A  more 
popular  poem  was  England's  Darling,  in  which  Austin, 
forgetful  of  the  magnum  opus  of  the  "  poetical  Pye," 
claimed  to  be  the  first  English  poet  to  celebrate  "  the 
greatest  of  Englishmen,"  i.e.,  King  Alfred.  That  Austin's 
love  for  England  was  deep  and  strong  is  abundantly 


ALFRED   AUSTIN  283 

shown  in  "  Who  Would  not  Die  for  England  ?  "  which, 
in  its  opening  lines,  is  suggestive  of  Tennyson. 

Who  would  not  die  lor  England  ! 
This  great  thought, 
Through  centuries  of  Glory  handed  down 
By  storied  vault  in  monumental  fane, 
And  homeless  grave  in  lone  barbaric   lands, 
Homeless,   but  not  forgotten,  so  can  thrill 
With  its  imperious  call  the  hearts  of  men, 
That  suddenly  from  dwarf  ignoble  lives 
They  rise  to  heights  of  nobleness,  and  spurn 
The  languid  couch  of  safety,  to  embrace 
Duty  and  Death  that  evermore  were  twin. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  year  1895,  Austin  was  walking 
in  his  garden  at  Swinford  Old  Manor,  where  so  many 
years  of  his  life  were  passed  in  peace  and  tranquillity, 
and  where  most  of  his  literary  work  was  done,  when  the 
postman  brought  him  a  letter  from  the  Prime  Minister 
(Lord  Salisbury),  announcing  his  appointment  to  the 
Laureateship.  The  poet  was,  of  course,  delighted,  and 
the  pleasure  was  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  he  had 
received  the  distinction  at  the  hands  of  "  the  most 
revered  Sovereign  that  ever  sat  on  the  British  throne,"  ^ 
But  his  delight  was  somewhat  chastened  when  he 
reflected  on  what  Petrarch  wrote  to  Boccaccio  on  his 
coronation  in  Rome  :  "  The  Laurel  brought  me  no 
increase  of  learning  or  literary  power,  as  you  may  well 
imagine,  while  it  destroyed  my  peace  of  mind  by  the 
infinite  jealousy  it  aroused  ;  for  from  that  time  well- 
nigh  every  one  sharpened  his  tongue  against  me.  It 
was  necessary  to  be  constantly  on  the  alert,  with  banner 
fl3dng,  ready  to  repel  an  attack,  now  on  the  left,  now 
on  the  right.  In  a  word,  the  Laurel  made  me  known 
only  to  be  tormented.  Without  it  I  should  have  led 
the  best  of  lives,  as  many  deem  a  life  of  obscurity  and 
peace  !  "  * 

1  Autobiography,  ii,  258.    »    Ibid.,  ii,  258-9. 


284  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

But  the  Italian  poet's  prophecy,  save  in  the  first 
particular,  was  entirely  falsified  in  the  case  of  Austin. 
The  laurel  did  not  destroy  his  peace  of  mind  nor  raise 
up  sharp-tongued  enemies ;  even  the  life  for  which 
Petrarch  longed  was  not  altogether  denied  him.  Austin 
had  many  friends — literary,  political,  social — who 
rejoiced  to  see  him  wearing  the  chaplet  which  Tennyson 
wore,  but  no  congratulatory  message  gave  him  more 
genuine  pleasure  than  Sir  Edwin  Arnold's — and  well 
it  might  !  "  Accept  my  heartiest  congratulations," 
telegraphed  the  author  of  The  Light  of  Asia,  "  with 
which  no  grudge  mingles,  although  I  myself  expected 
the  appointment.  I  rejoice  at  continuance  of  this 
appointment,  which  will  be  worthily  and  patriotically 
borne  by  you."  ^ 

Sir  Edwin  Arnold's  prediction  was  fulfilled.  Austin 
was  a  worthy  and  patriotic  Laureate  along  his  own  lines. 
By  that  is  meant  that  he  did  nothing  to  bring  the  office 
into  disrepute,  unless  it  was  that  his  verses  occasionally 
exhibited  political  bias.  On  the  whole,  he  performed 
the  duties  with  a  tolerable  degree  of  proficiency  ;  and 
if  no  one  was  rapturous  in  regard  to  his  odes,  no  one 
disparaged  them.  They  generally  served  the  occasion, 
and  most  people  were  satisfied. 

Austin  was  fortunate  in  winning  the  appreciation  of 
the  Queen,  the  sixtieth  anniversary  of  whose  accession 
was  the  first  prominent  event  he  commemorated  in  his 
official  capacity.  The  Laureate  got  a  copy  of  the  poem 
specially  printed  for  Her  Majesty.  This,  together  with 
some  roses  from  his  garden,  he  personally  conveyed  to 
Windsor,  intending  to  leave  them  at  the  Castle  and  to 
return  home.  He  was  fortunate  enough,  however,  to 
obtain  a  brief  interview  with  the  Queen,  who  received 
his  proffered  gift  with  "  a  mixture  of  graciousness  and 

*  Autobiography,   ii,  259-60. 


ALFRED   AUSTIN  285 

dignity."  ^  A  day  or  two  later,  the  Laureate  received 
copies  of  the  Queen's  two  Highland  books,  with  Her 
Majesty's  name  and  his  own  inscribed  in  them.  Here 
are  the  concluding  stanzas  from  the  Diamond  Jubilee 
poem — 

....  With  glowing  hearts  and  proud  glad  tears. 
The  children  of  her  Island  Realm  to-day 

Recall  her  sixty  venerable  years 
Of  virtuous  sway. 

Now,   too,   from  where  Saint-Lawrence  winds  adown 
'Twixt  forests  felled  and  plains  that  feel  the  plough. 

And  Ganges  jewels  the  Imperial  Crown 
That  girds  her  brow  ; 

From  Afric's  Cape,  where  loyal  watchdogs  bark, 
And  Britain's  Sceptre  ne'er  shall  be  withdrawn. 

And  that  young  Continent  that  greets  the  dark 
When  we  the  dawn  ; 

From   steel-capped   promontories   stern    and   strong. 
And  lone  isles  mounting  guard  upon  the  main. 

Hither  her  subjects  wend  to  hail  her  long 
Resplendent  Reign. 

And  ever  when  mid- June's  musk-roses  blow. 
Our  Race  will  celebrate  Victoria's  name, 

And  even  England's  greatness  gain  a  glow 
From  Her  pure  fame. 

For  King  Edward,  too,  Austin  had  a  warm  admiration  ; 
and  in  the  poem  which  he  composed  on  the  occasion  of 
His  Majesty's  death,  and  which  he  entitled,  The  Truce 
of  God :  A  King's  Bequest,  he  gave  felicitous  expression 
to  the  dominant  passion  of  King  Edward's  life. 

I 

Wliat  darkness  deep  as  wintry  gloom 

O'ershadows  joyous  Spring  ? 
In  vain  the  vernal  orchards  bloom. 
Vainly  the  woodlands  sing. 
A  Royal  shroud, 
A  mournful  crowd, 
Are  all  now  left  of  One  but  yesterday  a  King. 

^  Autobiography,  ii,  261. 


286  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

II 

Thrones  have  there  been  of  hateful  famt. 

Reared  upon  wanton  war  : 
He  we  have  lost  still  linked  his  name 
"With  peace,  at  home,  afar. 
For  peace  he  wrought. 
His  constant  thought 
Being  to  shield  his  Realm  against  strife's  baleful  star. 

HI 

So  let  us  now  all  seek  to  wrest 

From  fateful  feuds  release, 
And,  mindful  of  his  wise  bequest, 
From  factious  clamours  cease  ; 
Make,  on  the  path  he  trod, 
A  sacred  Truce  of  God, 
The  path  that  points  and  leads  to  patriotic  Peace. 

During  his  Laureateship,  Austin  continued  to  be  an 
industrious  writer  of  verse,  though  much  of  what  he 
wrote  quickly  passed  into  obUvion.  Among  his  later 
poetical  works  were  The  Conversion  of  Winckelmann, 
and  other  Poems  (1897)  ;  A  Tale  of  True  Love  (1902)  ; 
Sacred  and  Profane  Love  (1908)  ;  and  a  tragedy  entitled, 
Flodden  Field,  which  created  some  public  interest  through 
being  acted  at  His  Majesty's  Theatre,  London,  in  1903. 

But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  literary  achievement 
of  Austin's  later  years  was  the  half-dozen  prose  idylls  in 
which  he  proclaimed  the  joyousness  of  a  life  lived  in  the 
country.  The  sights  and  sounds  of  Nature  appealed  to 
him  with  quite  Wordsworthian  intensity ;  and  it  has 
been  truly  said  that  a  genuine  and  intimate  love  of  open- 
air  life  is  a  distinctive  feature  of  his  poetry.  Much  of 
his  life  was  passed  out  of  doors.  The  old-world  garden 
of  Swinford  was  to  him  an  ever-ending  delight.  There 
he  spent  many  of  the  happiest  hours  of  his  life,  and  it 
furnished  the  title  for  the  first  and  most  popular  of  his 
prose  idylls,  The  Garden  that  I  Love.  From  this  "  haunt 
of  ancient  peace,"  too,  he  dated  most  of  his  works. 


I 


ALFRED  AUSTIN  287 

In  Veronica's  Garden  ;  Lamia's  Winter  Quarters  ;  Spring 
and  Autumn  in  Ireland;  Haunts  of  Ancient  Peace;  A 
Lesson  in  Harmony,  are  all  prose  performances  connected 
more  or  less  remotely  with  gardens.  Of  these  volumes, 
Austin  had  no  reason  to  feel  ashamed.  In  all  the  out- 
ward aspects  of  Nature  are  depicted  with  a  glowing  and 
sympathetic  pen.  The  author  could  revel  in  the 
beauties  of  an  Italian  landscape,  but  he  reserved  his 
deepest  affection  for  "  dear,  old,  but  withal  ever  youthful, 
England." 

Austin  died  on  2nd  June,  1913,  at  his  beautiful  home 
at  Swinford  Old  Manor,  near  Ashford,  in  Kent,  where 
he  had  known  domestic  peace  and  felicity  for  nearly 
fifty  years.  Six  weeks  later,  the  present  Laureate, 
Dr.  Robert  Bridges,  was  appointed,  and  with  the  poem 
with  which  he  signalised  his  first  official  appearance 
(1913),  this  sketch  of  the  Poets  Laureate  during  nearly 
300  years  may  appropriately  conclude. 

Christmas  Eve 

Pax   Hominihus  Bonae    Voluntatis 

A  frosty  Christmas-eve  '  when  the  stars  were  shining 
Fared  I  forth  alone  '  where  westward  falls  the  hill 
And  from  many  a  village  '  in  the  water'd  valley 
Distant  music  reached  me  '  peals  of  bells  a-ringing  : 
The  constellated  sounds  '  ran  sprinkling  on  earth's  floor 
As  the  dark  vault  above  '  with  stars  was  spangled  o'er. 

Then  sped  my  thought  to  keep  '  that  first  Christmas  of  all 
When  the  shepherds  watching  '  by  their  folds  ere  the  dawn 
Heard  music  in  the  fields  '  and  marveUing  could  not  tell 
Whether  it  were  angels  '  or  the  bright  stars  singing. 

Now  blessed  be  the  towers  '  that  crown  England  so  fair 
That  stand  up  strong  in  prayer  '  unto  God  for  our  souls  : 
Blessed  be  their  founders  '  (said  I)  and  our  country-folk 
WTio  are  ringing  for  Christ '  in  the  belfries  tonight 
With  arms  hfted  to  clutch  '  the  rattling  ropes  that  race 
Into  the  dark  above  '  and  the  mad  romping  din. 


288  THE   POETS   LAUREATE 

But  to  me  heard  afar  '  it  was  heav'nly  music 
Angels'  song  comforting  '  as  the  comfort  of  Christ 
When  He  spake  tenderly  '  to  his  sorrowful  fiock  : 
The  old  words  came  to  me  '  by  the  riches  of  time 
Mellow'd  and  transfigured  '  as  I  stood  on  the  hill 
Hark'ning  in  the  aspect '  of  th'  eternal  silence. 


For  reference  to  this  note,  see  page  243 

^  How  this  sonnet,  which  is  really  a  parody,  came  to  be  foisted 
on  Wordsworth  cannot  now  be  precisely  determined  ;  but  probably 
the  delusion  arose  through  the  piece  being  ascribed  to  Wordsworth 
in  a  book  entitled  Poets  Laureate  of  England,  by  Walter  Hamilton, 
published  in  1879.  The  writer,  when  he  first  came  across  the  sonnet 
in  the  above-mentioned  work,  was  ignorant  of  its  real  author  ;  but 
as  it  exhibited  a  trait  diametrically  opposed  to  all  that  we  know  of 
the  poet's  character,  he  communicated  with  Professor  Knight,  the 
editor  of  the  monumental  edition  of  Wordsworth's  works.  Dr.  Knight 
expressed  grave  doubts  as  to  the  authenticitj'  of  the  sonnet,  mainly 
on  the  ground  of  its  "  excessive  egotism  "  ;  but  as  he  could  not 
furnish  irrefragable  proof  that  Wordsworth  did  not  wTite  it,  he  kindly 
wrote  to  the  poet's  grandson,  Mr.  Gordon  Wordsworth,  who  at  once 
set  the  matter  at  rest  by  announcing  that  the  sonnet  appeared  in  the 
1849  edition  of  the  Bon  Gaultier  Ballads.  Curiously  enough,  the 
piece  is  omitted  from  the  1855  edition,  likewise  the  latest  edition, 
both  of  which  the  writer  had  had  occasion  to  consult  previously. 
The  sonnet,  therefore,  was  not  written  by  Wordsworth,  as  is  com- 
monly supposed,  but  either  by  Aytoun  or  by  his  collaborator  in  the 
Bo>i  Gaultier  Ballads,  Theodore  Martin.  The  writer  has  discovered 
that  it  originally  appeared  in  Tait's  Edinburgh  Magazine  (vol.  x,  p.  276), 
in  an  article  by  Bon  Gaultier,  entitled,  "  Lays  of  the  Would-be 
Laureates."  Towards  the  close  of  the  contribution,  which  appeared 
in  the  month  following  Wordsworth's  acceptance  of  the  Laureateship, 
Bon  Gaultier  says,  "  his  readers  have  had  enough  of  verse  for  one 
bout,"  and  wishes  to  conclude  "  with  the  music  of  Macaulay's  ballad 
twanging  in  our  ears."  But  he  hesitates,  for  "  one  little  sonnet  yet 
remains  " — the  votive  offering  of  the  "  hierophant  of  Nature,"  whom 
Apollo  so  miraculously  preserved  from  the  fatal  lance  of  the  author 
of  Zazezizozu.  Tarry,  then,  with  us  yet  a  moment,  gentle  reader, 
and  muse  over  the  following  apostrophe  of  "  conscious  greatness." 
Bon  Gaultier  then  quotes  the  sonnet  beginning — 

"  Bays  !  which  in  former  days  have  graced  the  brow 
Of  some,  who  lived  and  loved,  and  sang  and  died  "  ; 
above  which  is  placed  the  Latin  words  "  Non  sine  Dis  animosus." 
To  the  sonnet,  Bon  Gaultier  adds  the  following  jocular  comment  : 
"  We  were  so  much  affected  by  the  noble  simplicity  of  these  lines, 
that  we  wrote,  in  strong  terms,  to  the  Home  Office.  The  immediate 
installation  of  the  bard  of  Rydal  in  the  vacant  place  was  the  result." 


289 

19— (2341) 


i 


INDEX 


Abbotsford,  219 

Absalom  and  Achitophel,  Dryden's, 
Q\.  65,  66,  68,  77,  78  ;  Second 
Part  of,  68,  79,  88,  103,  110 

• Senior,  lampoon  on  Dryden, 

66 

Addington,  Henry,  Viscount  Sid- 
mouth,  212 

Addison,  Joseph,  121,  125,  127. 
1 29  ;  his  lines  on  Dryden,  78  ; 
on  Shadwell,  79,  85  ;  dis- 
approves of  Tate's  version  of 
Lear,  101  ;  Rowe's  friendship 
with,  1 16  ;  on  Rowe's  Pharsalia, 
126  ;  Eusden's  Letter  to,  138  ; 
Eusden  and,  142 

Adelaide,  Pye's  tragedy,  213 

Admiralty,  220 

Adolphus,  Gustavus,  92 

Adventures  in  the  Poet's  Elysium, 
50 

^Ecumenical  Council,  282 

jEneas,  77,   100 

.lEsopus  the  Tragedian,  163 

Akenside,  Mark,   177 

Alba  Longa,   173 

Albert,  Prince.  See  Prince 
Consort 

Albion,  138,  139,  176,  177.  178, 
213,  249 

Albion  and  A  lb  an  ins,  Dryden's,  70 

Albovine,  D'Avenant's,  37 

Aldworth,  Tennyson's  home,  277 

Alexander  I,  of  Russia,  227 

Alexandra,  Queen,  269 

Alexandrovna,  Marie.  Duchess  of 
Edinburgh,  269 

Alexias,  Querno's  poem,  3 

Alfred,  King,   188,  212,  282 

Alfred,  Pye's  magnum  opus,  212-13, 
282 

Alice,  Princess,  268 

Alma  River,  Tennyson's,  264 

Ambitions  Stepmother,  Rowe's,  115 

American  War,  Southey's  ode  on, 
226 


Amherst,  Nicholas,  poet,  127 
Amorous  Bigot,  Shadwell's,  94 
Andria,  Terence's,  170 
Anglesey,  Countess  of,  53 
Anne,  Queen,  66,    105,    106,    108. 
123,   138,   166  ;    Tate  dedicates 

Essay    on    Psalmody     to,    109 ; 

Rowe's  eulogy  of,   1 18 
,  of  Denmark,  wife  of  James 

I,  24  ;  patron  of  Samuel  Daniel, 

17-18 
Annus  Mirabilis,  Dryden's,  46 
Antiquaries,  Society  of,  195 
Apollo,  2,  40,  137,  154,  157,  243, 

289 
Apology   for   Life    of   Mr.    Colley 

Gibber,     146     152,     165,     166  ; 

Swift  on,   162  ;    Goldsmith  on, 

162 
Appeal  to  the  Country  Gentlemen  of 

England,  Akenside's,  177 
Arbuthnot,    John,    157 ;     Pope's 

Epistle  to,  131 
Ariosto,   190 

Aristocrat,  Pye's  novel,  The,  215 
Aristotle,  210 
Armstrong,  John,  physician  and 

poet,  147 
Arnold,    Sir    Edwin,    274 ;     con- 
gratulates Austin,  284 

,  Miss  Frances,  248 

,  Matthew,  Austin  and,  276 

,  Samuel    James,    son-in-law 

of  Pye,  214 
Arod,   104 

Arpasia  (Tamerlane),   111 
Art  of  Angling,  Tate's  poem,  108 
Arthur,     Prince,     eldest    son     of 

Henry  VII,  10,  12 
Asaph,  104 
,  Dr.    Beveridge,   Bishop   of, 

109 
Ashford,  287 

Asses'  Ears  :   A  Fable,  175 
Astley,  Sir  John,  25 
Astrcea  Redux,  Dryden's,  60 


291 


292 


INDEX 


A  strophe!    and    Stella,    Sidney's, 
18 

Atlantis,   170 

Atterbury,     Francis,     Bishop    of 
Rochester,  115 

Attorney-General      at      Tangier, 
Shadwell's  father,  81 

Aubrey,  John,  on  D'Avenant,  35, 
39,  54  ;    on  Gondibert,  46 

Augustus,  160,  175 

Aurengzebe,  Dryden's,  67 

Austin,  Alfred,  appointed  Poet 
Laureate,  275  ;  panegyric  of 
Lord  Salisbury,  275  ;  criticism 
of  Tennyson,  276-7  ;  withdraws 
Poetry  of  the  Period  from  circula- 
tion, 277  ;  interview  with 
Tennyson,  277  ;  changed  atti- 
tude towards  Tennyson,  277  ; 
The  Passing  of  Merlin,  278  ;  his 
Laureateship,  278-9 ;  birth, 
parentage,  and  education,  279  ; 
his  first  poem,  280  ;  admiration 
of  Scott  and  Byron,  280  ;  The 
Season  :  A  Satire,  280  ;  politics 
and  journalism,  281-2  ;  his 
partisanship,  281  ;  literary  ac- 
tivity, 282  ;  his  Lyrical  Poems, 
282  ;  Queen  Victoria's  praise  of 
Prince  Lucifer,  282 ;  his  patriot- 
ism, 282-3 ;  thoughts  on  be- 
coming Laureate,  283 ;  Sir 
Edwin  Arnold's  congratula- 
tions, 284 ;  his  odes,  284 
Queen  Victoria  and,  284-5 
Diamond  Jubilee  ode,  285 
verses  on  King  Edward,  285-6 
later  poems,  286  ;  prose  idylls, 
286-7  ;  death,  287 ;  his  suc- 
cessor's (Dr.  Robert  Bridges) 
first  official  poem,  287-8 

Austin,  Joseph,  father  of  the 
Laureate,  279 

Austria,  266 

Autobiography,  Austin's,  277,  279, 
282 

Avon,  35,  36 

Aytoun,  W.  E.,  joint-author  of 
Bon  Gaultier  Ballads,  239-40, 
289 

Ataria  and  Hushai,  Pordage's, 
66 


Bacchus,  3,  102,  200 
Bajazet  (Tamerlane),  117 
Balaclava,  264,  265 
Ballantyne,  James,  218 
Balmoral  Castle,  270 
Bannockburn,  8 
Barton,  202 
Basingstoke,     Warton's     father, 

Vicar  of,  186 
Baskerville,  John,   191 
Baston,     Robert,     laureate     of 

Edward  II,  8 
Bath  (city),  200 

,  Order  of  the,  140,  172 

Bathurst,  Ralph,   189 

Battle  of  the  Poets,  Cooke's,   136 

Bayes.     hero     of     Buckingham's 

Rehearsal,  62,  157  ;  Dryden  as, 

62,  75,  87.  88 
Beaconsfield,  Lord.     See  Disraeli, 

Benjamin 
Beatrice,  Princess,  271 

(Shakespeare  character),  51 

Beaumont,     Francis,     dramatist, 

150 
Beauty  :   A  Poetical  Essay,  Pye's, 

209 
Bedfordshire,   114 
Benedick,  51 
Bentley,     Richard,     and     Rowe's 

version    of    Lucan's    Pharsalia, 

126  ;    Eusden's  verses  on,   134 
Berkeley  Square,  London,  164 
Berkshire,  206,  207 
Berlin,  Congress  of,  282 
Bernard,  Andrew,  poet  of  Henrv 

VII  and  Henry  VIII,   10  ;    hi's 

royal  poems,   1 1 
Bethlehem  Hospital,  London,  147 
Betterton,  Thomas,  actor,  35,  50, 

101,   116,   122,   148 
Beveridge,  Dr.,  Bishop  of  Asaph, 

109. 
Biographia  Literaria,  Coleridge's, 

180 
Birmingham,  279 
Birrell,  Mr.  Augustine,   133,   174 
Biter,  Rowe's  comedy,  The,  121 
Black  Will,  64 
Blackmore,  Sir  Richard,  poetaster. 

137 
Blackstone,  Sir  \^'ilham,   192 


INDEX 


293 


Blackwood's  Magazine,  79 

Blast  upon  Bays,  163 

Blenheim,  Tate's  commemoration 
of,   107 

Boccaccio,  73,  283 

Bodleian  Library,  Oxford,  203 

Boleyn,  Anne,   172 

Bon  Gaultier  Ballads,  239-40,  289 

Booth,  Barton,  actor,  151 

Boswell,  James,  160  ;  on  White- 
head, 183  ;  on  Thomas  Warton, 
191-2,  202  ;  his  Life  of  Johnson, 
192 

Bouhours's  Life  of  St.  Francis 
Xavier,  translated  by  Dryden, 
75-6 

Bowge  of  Court,  Skelton's  12 

Boyne,  battle  of  the,  134 

Bracegirdle,  Mrs.,  actress,  116 

Brady,  Dr.  Nicholas,  funeral 
oration  on  Shadwell,  95  ;  co- 
operates with  Tate  in  compiling 
metrical  version  of  Psalms,  98  ; 
109-12 

Bridges,  Dr.  Robert,  succeeds 
Austin  in  the  Laureateship,  287  ; 
his  first  Laureate  poem,  287-8 

Britannia,   139,   177,  211 

Britannia  Rediviva,  Dryden's,  76 

Triumphans,     D'Avenant's, 

38 

British  and  Foreign  Sailors' 
Church,  164 

Museum,   133 

Britons  Guard  Your  Own,  Tenny- 
son's, 260 

Brooke,  Fulke  Greville,  Lord, 
36 

Broomhill  House,  Norfolk,  80 

Brougham,  Lord,  231 

Brown,  Tom,  satirises  Dryden,  75 

Browning  Robert,  280  ;  Austin's 
criticism  of,  276 

Bruce,  King  Robert  the,  8 

Brunswick,  139,  140,  176,  228 

Brutus  of  Alba,  Tate's,  100 

Buc,  Sir  George,  25 

Buccleuch,  Duke  of,  counsels 
Scott  to  decline  Laureateship, 
219 

Buckham,  Dorset,   128 

Buckhurst,  Lord.     See  Dorset 


Buckingham,  Duke  of,  137; 
Zimri  of  Dryden's  Absalom  and 
Achitophel,  61,  62,  65  ;  his 
Reflections  on  Dryden's  satire, 
67 ;  his  satire,  Election  of  a 
Poet  Lauteate,  136 

,  Palace,  244,  266 

"  Bull's  Head,"   164 

Bunsen,  Madame,  250 

Buonaparte.     See  Napoleon 

Burges,  Sir  James  Bland-,  205,  214, 
216 

Burghley,  Lord,  and  Spenser's 
poetry,   1 5 

Burke,  Edmund,   171 

Burney,  Fanny,  on  Warton,  201 

Bury  Fair,  Shadwell's,  90,  91,  94 

Bury  St.  Edmunds,  81 

Busby,  Dr.  Richard,   115 

Butler,  Samuel,  author  of  Hiidi- 
bvas,  62,  70 

Byrchenshaw,  Maurice,  university 
laureate,  6 

Byrom,  John,  Lancashire  poet, 
176 

Byron,  Lord,  233,  235,  236  ;  on 
Pye's  poetry,  204 ;  satirises 
Southey,  228  ;  quarrel  with 
Southey,  232  ;  dedicates  Do)i 
Juan  to  Southej-,  232  ;  Austin 
vindicates,  280 

Byron,  Lady,  280 

C^SAR,  126 

CcBsar  in  Egypt,  Gibber's,   157 

Caesars  of  Germany,  2 

Caius  College,  Cambridge,  81 

Caliban,  51 

Calista  {Fair  Penitent),  118 

"  Calliope,"  12-13 

Cambridge,    134,    138,    170,    171, 

187,  250 
ode,  Wordsworth's,  240,  248, 

250 


University,    279  ;     laureation 

at,  6  ;  Shadwell  studies  at,  81  : 
Prince  Consort,  Chancellor  of 
240,  247 

Camden  Professor  of  History, 
Oxford,   195 

Campbell,  Thomas,   174,   180 

Canary  wine,  61,  71,  212 


294 


INDEX 


Canterbury,  41 

,  Archbishop  of,  1  ;    Herbert, 

Archbishop  of,  8 
Capitol  (Rome),  4 
Capitohne  Hill  (Rome),  3 
Capricious  Lady,  Mrs.  Pye's,  207 
Careless    Husband,    Cibber's,   146, 

150 
Carleton,  Sir  Dudley,   18 
Carmen  Aulica,  Southey's,  227 
Nuptiale  :     The   Lay  of  the 

Laureate,  221,  237 

Seculare,  Prior's,  105  ;  Pye's 


212 

Triumphale,  Southey's,  225 

Caroline,  Queen,   143,   145 

"  Castle  "  tavern,  Islington,   164 

Cato,  Addison's,  142,  170 

Caxton,  William,  prints  Kaye's 
Siege  of  Rhodes,  9  ;  asks  Skelton 
to  correct  Bake  of  Eneydos  com- 
pyled  by  Vyrgyle,  12 

Cervantes,  5 

Chalmers,  Alexander,  51 

Chamberlain,  John,   18 

,  Mr.  Joseph,  260 

Champion,  Fielding's,   161 

Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  for 
Ireland,  230 

Chancery  Lane,  London,  75 

Chapman,  George,  23  ;  his  East- 
ward Ho  !   102 

Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade, 
Tennyson's,  264,  265 

Charge  to  the  Poets,  Whitehead's, 
180 

Charing  Cross,  London,  164 

Charles  I,  30,  31,  32,  36,  38,  39, 
41,  44,  47,  56,  136  ;  Jonson's 
position  under,  25-6  ;  sends 
Jonson  ;^100,  29  ;  increases  Jon- 
son's pension,  28-9  ;  on  D'Aven- 
ant's  Wits,  37  ;  reproves 
D'Avenant,  42 

Charles  II,  49,  56,  58,  59,  61.  64, 
65,  66,  67,  69,  70,  71,  72,  74, 
78,  93,  102,  103,  104,  274; 
appoints  Dryden  to  Laureate- 
ship,  60  ;  Dryden 's  panegyric 
on,  60  ;   Tate's  epitaph  on,  106 

Charlotte,  Queen,  Southey's  ode 
on,  228-9 


Charlotte,  Princess,  227,  228  ;  Sou- 
they's ode  on  marriage  of,  224 

Chatterton  and  Rowley  contro- 
versy,  194 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  99,  198  ; 
claimed  as  Court  poet,  8  ; 
Edward  III  and,  8  ;  Richard  II 
and,  8  ;  styles  himself  "  Poet 
Laureate,"  8  ;  his  supposed 
meeting  with  Petrarch,  8-9 

Chelsea,  95 

Church,  95 

Cherwell,  river,  203 

Chesterfield,    Lord,    161 

"  Christopher  North  "  (Prof.  John 
Wilson),  on  Warton,  185,  194, 
200 

Church  of  England,  56,  72,  74,  84, 
108,  112,  141,  229 

Churchill,  Charles,  on  Whitehead, 
175,  176,  179,  180,  181,  183 

Churchyard,  Thomas,  poetaster,  6 

Cibber,  Caius  Gabriel,  father  of 
the  Laureate,  148 

,  Colley,    136,    167,    168,    169, 

175,  180,  252;  would-be  suc- 
cessors of  Eusden,  143  ;  Theo- 
bald canvasses,  143  ;  Savage 
becomes  "  Volunteer  Laureate," 
144-5  ;  appointment  of,  145  ; 
failure  as  Laureate,  145  ;  his 
Apology,  146  ;  his  personality, 
146-7  ;  birth  and  ancestry,  147  ; 
Pope  and  his  father,  147-8 ; 
brief  schooling,  148  ;  begins 
dramatic  career,  148  ;  early 
successes  as  actor  and  play- 
wright, 149  ;    Love's  Last  Shift, 

149  ;  his  comedies,  150  ;  his 
adaptations  from  Shakespeare, 

150  ;  joins  Wilks  and  Doggett 
in  management  of  Drury  Lane, 

151  ;  theatrical  quarrels,  151  ; 
The  Non-Juror,  151  ;  its  politi- 
cal character,  152  ;  malignity 
of  the  Tories,  152  ;  premature 
announcement  of  his  death,  152  ; 
appointed  Laureate,  154 ;  un- 
fitness for  the  post,  155  ;  best- 
abused  man  of  his  time,  155  ; 
Pope's  attack  on,  155  ;  en- 
throned in  place  of  Theobald  in 


INDEX 


295 


Gibber,  Colley  (cont.) — 

The  Dune  tad,  156  ;  Pope's 
burlesque  account  of  Laureate- 
ship,  156  ;  origin  of  quarrel 
with  Pope,  157  ;  epistles  to 
Pope,  158  ;  their  good  sense  and 
good  feeling,  158-9  ;  Johnson 
and,  160-1  ;  Fielding  and,  161  ; 
some  admirers  of,  162  ;  lam- 
poons   on,    162-4 ;     his    death, 

164  ;  personal  appearance,  164  ; 
character,    165  ;     domestic  life, 

165  ;  place  as  versifier  and 
dramatist,   165-6 

,  Theophilus,   116,   137.   165 

Civil  List  pension,  253 
Civil  War,  39,  40,  80,  148 
Clare  Hall,  Cambridge,  171 
Clarence,  Duke  of,  Tennyson's  ode 

on  death  of,  272 
Clarendon,  Lord,  37,  39,  50 ;     on 

D'Avenant,   42 
Clarissa    Havloivc,    118 
Clarke,  Dr.  James  Stanier,  218 
Claudian,   138,   142 
Clayton,  Mrs.,  144 
Clement  VIII  offers  bays  to  Tasso, 

4 
Clerk  of  the  Presentations  ( Rowe) , 

123 
Cockpit,  Drury  Lane,  D'Avenant 

opens,  49 
Coleridge,    Samuel    T.,    16,    185, 

199,   230;     on  Samuel   Daniel, 

17  ;    on  Whitehead's  verse,  180 
Colin  Clout's  Come  Home  Againe, 

Spenser's,    16 
Colin's  Complaint,  Rowe's,  125 
Colley,  William,  of  Glaston,  148 
Collier,      Jeremy,      his      crusade 

against  the  stage,  98,  102,  103 

120 
Comments  on  the  Commentatoys  of 

Shakespeare,    Pye's,    214-15 
Commons,  House  of,  207,  208 
Commonwealth,  44,  49,  57,  64 
Complavnt  of  Rosamond,  Daniel's, 
CoTOM5,' Milton's,  187  [17 

Congress  of  Berlin,  282 
Congreve,      William,      dramatist, 

127,    130,    136,    149,    150;     on 

Rowe's  dramas,  116,  121 


Coningsby,  Lincolnshire,  Eusden, 

rector  of,  141 
Conquest  of  Granada,  Dryden's,  62 
Conservative  party,  Alfred  Austin 

and,  275 
Consort,       Prince.       See     Prince 

Consort 
Coittes  (La  Fontaine),   174 
Conversion  of  Winckelmann,  Aus- 
tin's, 286 
Cooke,    Thomas,    his   satire,    The 

Battle  of  the  Poets,  136 
Corah,   104 
Cordelia,   101,   102 
Coriolanus,      Tate's     version     of 

Shakespeare's,   102 
Corneille,    French   dramatist,    48, 

173 
Country  Mouse   and   City  Mouse, 

parody  of  Dryden's  Hind  and 

the  Panther,  75 
Counts  Palatine,   and  laureation, 

4-5 
Courthope,      Prof.      W.      J.,      on 

Warton's    History    of    English 

Poetry,   193-4 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  101,  117, 

213 
Cowes      Castle,      D'Avenant      a 

prisoner  in,  43 
Cowley,       Abraham,       70  ;        on 

D'Avenant's  Goudibert,  34,  47 
Cradock,  Dr.,  248 
Cressy,   198 

Creusa,  Queen  of  Athens,  White- 
head's,  173 
Crimean  War,  264 
Crites,  75 
Croker,  John    Wilson,    220,    221, 

223,  225 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  50,  56,  57,  59, 

74,  88,  99  ;    Dryden's  poem  on, 

58  ;   Dryden  sneers  at,  60 

,  Richard,  49,  58 

Cromwellian  party,  Thomas  May 

joins,  39 
Crown  tavern,  Oxford,  34 
Crowne,     John,     dramatist,     63, 

86 
Cruel  Brother,  D'Avenant's,  37 
Cruel  Husband,  His  Injured  Love, 

or  the,  Tate's,  102 


296 


INDEX 


Crusius,  Joannes  Paulus,  lau- 
reated  at  Strasbourg,  4 

Crystal  Palace,  261,  262 

Cuckold's  Haven,  Tate's,   102 

Cuddington,   194 

Cumberland  Earl  of,  Daniel  tutor 
to  daughter  of,  17 

Cupid,   141 

Curiatii,   173 

Curll,  Edmund,  bookseller,  156 

Cyclopaedia  of  English  Literature, 
Chambers's,   132 

Cynthia,   107 

Daniel,  George,  Cavalier  poet, 
137 

,  Samuel,  last  of  the  "  Volun- 
teer Laureates,"  16  ;  Jonson's 
opinion  of,  16  ;  Spenser  and, 
16  ;  Coleridge  and,  17  ;  masque 
writer  to  James  I,  17-18  ;  super- 
seded by  Jonson,  18  ;  his  place 
in  literary  history,  18-19 

Danish  Church,  Whitechapel,  164 

Dante,  233 

D'Arblay,  Mme.  See  Burney, 
Fanny 

D'Avenant,  Sir  William,  32,  55, 
57,  61,  62,  83,  274;  stormy 
career,  33  ;  his  poetical  niche, 
33-4 ;  his  vanity,  34  ;  birth 
and  parentage,  34  ;  alleged  to 
be  a  son  of  Shakespeare,  35  ; 
education,  35-6  ;  ode  to  "  Mas- 
ter Shakespeare,"  36  ;  serves 
in  households  of  Duchess  of 
Richmond  and  Lord  Brooke, 
36  ;  speedy  rise  to  fame,  36-7  ; 
turns  playwright,  37  ;  Charles  I 
and  The  Wits,  37  ;  supervises 
royal  entertainments,  37  ;  his 
masques,  38  ;  "  Servant  to  her 
Majestie,"  38  ;  Poet  Laureate, 
38  ;  his  rival,  Thomas  May, 
38-9  ;  loses  his  nose,  39  ;  Suck- 
ling's poetical  tribute,  40  ;  lam- 
poons on,  40-1  ;  a  fugitive 
Laureate,  41  ;  becomes  Lieu- 
tenant-General  of  Ordnance, 
41  ;  knighted  at  siege  of 
Gloucester,  41-2  ;  a  Roman 
Catholic  convert,  42  ;    sent  by 


D'Avenant,  Sir  Wilham  (cant.) — 
the    Queen     to    Charles,     42 ; 
Gondibeit,     43  ;       prisoner      in 
Cowes    Castle,    43  ;     arraigned 
before  court  of  High  Commis- 
sion, 44  ;   Milton  intercedes  for 
44  ;    confinement  in  the  Tower 
44  ;     publishes    Gondiberi,    44 
Scott's   opinion   of   poem,    45 
Hobbes    and    Gondibert,    45-6 
reception   of   poem,    46-7  ;     re 
sumes  writing  for  the  stage,  47 
The  Siege  of  Rhodes,  48  ;  pioneer 
of  opera  in  England,  48  ;   opens 
Cockpit    in    Drury    Lane,    49  ; 
restored    to    the    Laureateship, 
49  ;    opens  new  theatre  at  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Fields,  49  ;    a  pros- 
perous playwright,  50  ;  mangles 
Shakespeare,  50-2  ;    assisted  by 
Dryden,     50-2  ;      a     third-rate 
poet,  53  ;    his  character,  53-4  ; 
death,  54. 

David,  Psalms  of,   109 

Davies,  Thomas,   164 

Davy,  Sir  Humphry,  Wordsworth 
wears  a  sword  owned  by,  244 

Deanes,  Colonel  Alex.,  128 

Decline    and    Fall   of    the    Roman 
Empire,  Gibbon's,  204 

Defence  of  Lucknow,  Tennyson's, 
265 

De  la  Warr,  Earl,  241 

De  LaiidibusBritanniae , Erasmus's, 
11 

Delia  sonnets,  Daniel's,  18-19 

Delphi,  278 

Democrat,  Pye's  novel.  The,  215 

Denham,   Sir   John,   on   D'Aven- 
ant's   Gondibert,  47 

Dennis,  John,  136,  143,  157  ;    on 
Rowe,   129 

Devenish,    Anne,    Rowe's   second 
wife,   128 

,  Joseph,    Rowe's    father-in- 
law,   128 

De  Vere,  Aubrey,  248 

Devonshire,  Duke  of,   167 

Dewsbury,  281 

Diamond  Jubilee  poem,  Austin's, 
284-5 

Diary,  John  Evelyn's,  49,  72 


INDEX 


297 


Dictionary,  Warton  on  Johnson's, 
191 

Dictionayy  of  National  Biography, 
48,   110 

Dido,   100 

Diego  und  Leonor,  214 

Disraeli,  Benjamin,  offers  Tenny- 
son a  baronetcy,  270 

D'Israeli,  Isaac,  on  D'Avenant,  47 

Dobson,  Mr.  Austin,   161 

"  Doeg  "  (Elkanah  Settle),  69, 
103 

Dogberry,  79 

Doggett,  Thomas,  actor,  151 

Domitian  (emperor),  and  laurea- 
tions,  2 

Don  Carlos,  Otway's,  96 

,  Juan,  Byron's,  232 

Quixote,  5,   122 

Sebastian,  Dryden's,  78 

Dorset,   128 

,  Earl  of,  generosity  to  Dry- 
den,   76-7  ;     on   Shadwell,   90  ; 
on  Squire  of  Alsatia,  93  ;    Tate 
and,  100;  on  Colley  Gibber,  149   I 
Garden  Theatre,  83,  96,  100  I 


Double  Dealer,   149 

Dowden,  Prof.  Edward,  228 

Drake,  Sir  Francis,  211 

"  Drawcansir  in  Wit  "  (Fielding), 
161 

Drayton,  Michael,  on  Samuel 
Daniel,   17 

Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  16  ; 
praises  Daniel's  poetry,  17 

Drury  Lane  Theatre,  49,  116,  119, 
148,151,156,162,  173,207,213, 
214 

Dryden,  John,   1,  20,  21,  34,  48, 
51,  52,  79,  80,  83,  85,  86.  87, 
88,  89,  90,  91,  99.  100,  104,  105, 
110,  115,  128,  130,  133,  140,  150, 
155,    167,    186,    197,    198,    222, 
225,   252,    257,   273,   274;    his  ' 
Laureateship,  55-6  ;    Gray  and  \ 
Macaulay  on,  56  ;    his  vacilla-  ' 
tion,    56-7  ;     begins    career    as  ■ 
Puritan,  57  ;  panegyrizes  Crom- 
well, 58-9  ;    A  strcea  Redux,  60  ; 
becomes    Poet    Laureate,    60 ;   ! 
satirised  in   Buckingham's  Re- 
hearsal, 61  ;  Settle's  Empress  of 


Dryden,  John,  {cont.) — 

Morocco,    62  ;     attacks    Settle 
63 ;       Rochester     and,     63-4 
Absalom    and    Achitophel,    65 
infuriates  the  Whigs,  66  ;    The 
Medal,  67  ;  Shadwell's  relations 
with,    67  ;     MacFlecknoe,    68 
collaborates  with  Nahum  Tate 
68  ;     days    of    adversity,    69 
funeral  ode  on  Charles  II,  70 
becomes  Roman  Catholic,  71 
reasons     for    this    step,    71-3 
employed     by     James     II     to 
defend  Romanism,  74  ;  contro- 
versy   with    Stillingfleet,     74  ; 
Hind  and  the  Panther,  74  ;    its 
reception,      74-5  ;        translates 
Bouhours's  Life  of  Xavier,  75  ; 
Britannia      Rediviva,      76  ;       a 
deposed    Laureate,    76-7  ;     his 
loyalty    after    the    Revolution, 

77  ;  Don  Sebastian,  78  ;  last 
years,   78 ;     Addison's  tribute, 

78  ;  D'Avenant's  influence  on, 
46  ;  writes  prologue  to  D'Aven- 
ant's version  of  TheTempest,  50  ; 
friendship  with  Tate,  103 

Dryden's  Satire  to  his  Muse,  67 
Dryden,   Sir   John,   uncle   of  the 

poet,  57,  59 
Duck,  Stephen,  Laureate  of  Queen 

Caroline,  143,  154,  157 
Duke  of  Guise,  Dryden  and  Lee's, 

89  ;    Shadwell's  Reflections  on, 

89  ;   Drj^den's  Vindication  of,  89 
Duke  and  No  Duke,  Tate's,  102 
Duke  of  York,  49,  64,  81 
Duke's  Company  of  Players,  49 

Theatre,  52 

Dunciad,  Pope's,  3,  78,  113,  116, 
119,  131,  137,  143,  148,  155, 
156,  158,  159,  165  ;  modelled 
on  Dryden's  MacFlecknoe,  68 

D'Urfey,  Thomas,  dramatist,  136 

Eastward  Ho  .',  23,  102 
Eclogues,  Virgil's,   186 
Eden,   132 
Edgar,   101 

Edinburgh,  Duke  of,  269 
Edward  II,  8 

Ill,  and  Chaucer,  8 


298 


INDEX 


Edward  IV,  7  ;  title  of  Poet  Lau- 
reate first  met  with  in  reign  of, 
9  ;    Skelton's  poem  on,   12 

VII,  269,  271  ;    Tennyson's 

ode  on  marriage  of,  269 ; 
Austin's  poem  on  death  of, 
285-6 

Edwards,  Richard,  15  ;  laureate 
to  Elizabeth,  14 

Elba,  224 

Elbe,  249 

Eldon,  Lord,  on  Warton's  leisurely 
ways,  187  ;  and  Southey's  \Va( 
Tyler,  231 

Election  of  a  Poet  Laureate,  Buck- 
ingham's satire,  136 

Elector  Palatine,  38 

Elegy,  Gray's,   168 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  14,  23,  24,  160, 
193,  237  ;  and  Spenser,  15-16  ; 
Spenser  and  Raleigh  present 
songs  to,  16  ;  an  admirer  of 
Jonson's  comedies,  21  ;  Jon- 
son's  verses  on,  21-2 

Elizabethan  drama,   194 

poetry,   185,   193 

Empress  of  Morocco,  Settle's,  62, 

64,  69,  85-6  ;    Remarks  on,  86 
Enchanted  Island, The  Tempest,  or, 
D'Avenant's,    51  ;    Shadwell's, 
83 

Lovers,   Brutus   of   Alba,   or 

the,  Tate's,   100 

England's  Darling,  Austin's,  282 
English  Bards  and  Scotch  Review- 
ers, Byron's,  280 
Enthusiast,  Whitehead's,   179 
Epigram  Consolatory,  Jonson's,  31 
Epilogue  at  the  Presentation  before 

Queen  Elizabeth,  Jonson's,  21 
Epistle  to  the  Poet  Laureate  (1790), 
208 

of  Poets  and  Poesie,  Dray- 
ton's,  17 

to  the  Tories,  Shadwell's,  87 

Epsom  Wells,  Shadwell's,  83 
Erasmus,    his   praise   of   Skelton, 

11 
Essay    of    Dramatic    Poesv,    Dry- 
den's,  86 
Essay  on  Man,  Pope's,  170 
— Satire,  Mulgrave's,  64 


Etherege,  Sir  George,  dramatist,  85 

Euripides,   173 

Eusden,  Laurence,  21,  97,  143, 
144,  154,  156,  167,  168,  169, 
195,  196,  197,  204,  205,  252  ; 
failure  as  man  and  poet,  131  ; 
purveyor  of  nauseous  and  bar- 
ren verses,  132-3;  son  of  a 
parson,  133;  studies  at  Cam- 
bridge under  Bentley,  134  ; 
his  distinguished  academic 
career,  134  ;  Lord  Halifax  be- 
comes his  patron,  135  ;  pre- 
sented with  laurel  by  Duke  of 
Newcastle,  135  ;  Thomas 
Cooke's  satire  on,  136  ;  pil- 
loried by  Buckingham  and  Pope, 
136-7  ;  in  praise  of,  137  ;  cele- 
brates Marlborough's  victory 
at  Oudenarde,  137  ;  early 
poems,  138  ;  his  unblushing 
flattery,  138  ;  his  ludicrous 
odes,  138-9  ;  uncrowned  bards 
and,  140 ;  laudation  of  Wal- 
pole,  140-1  ;  a  "  drunken  par- 
son," 141  ;  his  death,  141  ; 
friendship  with  Addison  and 
Steele,  142  ;  contributes  to 
Spectator,  142 ;  his  miserable 
record,   142 

Eusebia,   108 

Evelyn,  John,  74  ;  on  D'Avenant, 
49  ;  on  Dryden's  change  of 
religion,  72 

Everett,  Mrs.,  245 

Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  Jon- 
son's, 21 

out    of    his    Humour, 

Jonson's,  21 

Examiner,  260 

Exclusion  Bill,  64 

Exhibition,  Crystal  Palace,  261  ; 
Tennyson's  ode  on,  261,  268 

Faerie     Queene,    Spenser's,      15  ; 

dedicated    to    Elizabeth,     16  ; 

Warton's  Observations  on,   187, 

189 
Fair  Penitent,  Rowe's,  118,  119 
Falkland,   Lord,   poem  on   Ehzn- 

beth,  22  ;    poem  on  laureation 

of  Jonson,  24 


INDEX 


299 


Fane,  Henry,  son-in-law  of  Rowe, 
127 

Farewell  to  London,  Pope's,  116 
Faringdon,        Berkshire,       Pye's 

estate,  206,  207 
Farringdon  Within,  239 
Fashion,  Sir  Novelty,  149 
Fatal  Dowry,  Massinger's,  1 18 
Faversham,  41 
Fell,  Dr.,  75 
Ferdinand     II     (Emperor),     and 

creation  of  Poets  Laureate,  5 
Fielding,  Henry,  on  Cibber,   147, 

150,   161,   162 
First  Folio  (Shakespeare),  121,  122 
Five  Pastoral  Eclogues,  Warton's, 

187 
Fleay,  23 

Flecknoe,  Richard,  68,  88,  156 
Flensborg,   147 
Fletcher,    John,    dramatist,    102, 

150 
Flodden   Field,   Austin's  tragedy, 

286 
Fool  in  Fashion,  Gibber's,  149 
Foppington,  Cibber  as  Lord,  149, 

164 
Fortunes  of  Nigel,  Scott's,  94 
Fountain's  Rewards  of  Virtue,  83 
Fourth  Folio  (Shakespeare),  121 
France,  laureations  unknown  in,  5 
Francis,  Dauphin  of  France,  1 1 

,  Sir  Philip  ("Junius"),  216 

Franco-German  war,  282 

Frascastoro,   108 

Eraser's  Magazine,  239 

Frederick  III,  4 

,  Grown-prince  of  Germany, 

266 
Friendship,  Whitehead's  poem  on, 

171 

Gage,  Lord,   143 

Galway,  Shaduell's  father,  Re- 
corder of,  81 

Garden  that  I  Love,  Austin's,  286 

Garlande  of  Latirell,  13 

Garrick,  David,  actor,  146,  214  ; 
adheres  to  Tate's  version  of 
Lear,  101  ;  and  Whitehead,  173, 
174,   183 

Garter,  Order  of  the,   140 


Garth,  Sir  Samuel,   127 

Gay,  John,  157,  174 

Generous  Porttigals,  Island  Prin- 
cess or  the,  Tate's,  102 

Genest,  John,  52,  83,  119,  152,  153 

Gentleman' s  Magazine,  154,  164, 
209 

George  I,  105,  106,  112,  123,  127, 
135,  136,  138,  139,  140,  151, 
152,  166  ;  Shadwell's  works 
dedicated  to,  96  ;  Rowe's  first 
ode  to,  124  ;  Rowe's  Pharsalia 
dedicated  to,  126  ;  settles  pen- 
sion on  Rowe's  widow,  128 

II,   138,   139,   144,   154,  160, 

166,  168,  169  ;    Gibber's  eulogy 
of,   155 

Ill,  184,  204,  222,  223,  228  ; 


Whitehead's  ode  on  accession 
of,  177  ;  Warton  on,  199  ; 
Pye's  odes  on,  205,  209,  210; 
Sou  they  commemorates  reign 
of,  233 

IV,  237  ;    Southey's  ode  on 

accession  of,  236.  See  also 
Prince  Regent 

George's  Day,  St.,  Southey's  ode 
for,  236 

Georgian  era,   1,   121 

Georgian  Laureates,  21,  197,  229, 
252 

Georgics,  Virgil's,  73,   186 

Germany,  laureation  in,  4 

Gesta  Romanorum,  193 

Ghost,  Churchill's,   180 

Gibbon,  Edward,  117,  208;  on 
origin  of  title  of  Poet  Laureate, 
2  ;  on  Whitehead's  odes,  176  ;  on 
Warton's  History  of  English 
Poetry,  193  ;  and  royal  odes, 
204 

Gifford,  William,  editor  of  Jon- 
son's  works,  23,  24,  27  ;  on 
Jonson's  masques,   32 

Gildon,  98,   136 

Gilfillan,  George,  on  Thomas 
Warton,   187 

Gladstone,  William  Ewart,  242  ; 
offers  Tennyson  a  baronetcy, 
270  ;  raises  Tennyson  to  peer- 
age, 271 

Globe  Theatre,  21 


300 


INDEX 


Gloucester,  41 

Goat's  Beayd,  Whitehead's,  174, 
175 

Godolphin,  Lady  Henrietta,  135 

Golden  Age,  Austin's,  282 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  125,  162,  173 

Gondibert,  D'Avenant's,  34,  43,  44, 
53  ;  Scott  on,  45  ;  Hobbes  and, 
46  ;  Cowley,  Waller,  Pope, 
and  Denham  on,  47 

Good-natured  Man,  Goldsmith's, 
173 

Gotham,  Churchill's,   181 

Gothic  architecture,  Warton  and, 
187,   188 

Gower,  John,  and  laureateship,  9 

Grafton,  Charles,  Duke  of.  143 

Grandchester,   170 

Grantham,   148 

Gray,  Thomas,  on  Dryden's 
Laureateship,  56  ;  on  Rowe, 
123 ;  on  Eusden,  131 ;  on 
Gibber's  comedies,  150 ;  de- 
clines Laureateship,  168  ;  friend- 
ship with  Mason,  169  ;  on 
Whitehead,  171,  172,  173,  176, 
180,  182;  and  Warton's  His- 
tory of  English  Poetry,  192,  193, 
194,   197 

Greece,  2 

Greenribbon  Club,  104 

Greville,  Fulke.  See  Brooke, 
Lord 

Grisoni,   149 

"Ground-Ivy"    (Gibber),    161 

Grub  Street,  91,  133,  145,  239 

Grub  Street  Journal,  140 

Guardian,  Eusden  contributes  to, 
142 

Gunpowder  Plot,  116 

Gwynn,  Nell,  72 

Habeas  Corpus  Act,  230 

Hades,  50 

Halifax,    Charles    Montagu,    Earl 

of,  75  ;    patron  of  Eusden,  134, 

135 
Hallam,  Arthur  Henry,  254,  269 
Hamilton,  Walter,  289 
Hampden,  John,  206 
Hampton  Court,   17 
Hands  All  Round,  Tennyson's,  260 


Hanover  Square  Rooms,  London, 
251 

Harcourt,  Earl  of,  175,  183 

Hare,  Juhus  Charles,  250 

"  Hatchet  Face  "  (Gibber),  165 

Haunts  of  Ancient  Peace,  Austin's, 
287 

Havelock,  Sir  Henry,  265,  266 

Haydon,  B.  R.,  244,  245 

Hazhtt,  William,  16,  244  ;  on 
T.  Warton's  verse,  185-6 

Headingley,  Austin's  birthplace, 
279 

Hearne,  Thomas,  antiquary,  122 

Helicon,   165 

Helvellyn,  245 

Henrietta  Maria,  wife  of  Charles  I , 
38,  41  ;  obtains  D'Avenant  the 
Laureateship,  38  ;  sends 
D'Avenant  to  interview  Charles 
I,  42 ;  places  D'Avenant  in 
charge  of  expedition,  43 

Henry  I,  7 

II,  Lyttelton's,  213 

Ill,  8 

VII,  10,  13  ;  Skelton's  rela- 
tions with,  12 

VIII,  10,  11,  13,  172;  Whit- 


tington's  poem  on,  7  ;   Erasmus 
dedicates  ode  to,  1 1 

Prince,    son    of    James   I, 


17 

of  Battenburg,  Prince,  271 

Herbert,    Archbishop    of    Canter- 
bury, 8 

,  Sir  Henry,  37,  50  ;    quarrel 

with  D'Avenant,  49 
"  Herculean  Satyrist  "  (Fielding), 

161 
Heroic  Stanzas,  Dryden's,  58,  60 
Heroick  Epistle,  202 
Hertford,  Marquis  of,  219 
High  Commission,  Court  of,  44 
Hill  Farrance,  Somerset,   195 
Hind  and  the  Panther,  Dryden's, 

74,  75 
His  Injured  Love,  Tate's,   102 
His   Majesty's   Theatre,    London, 

286 
Historical  Register,  Fielding's,  161 
Historiographer,    Royal,    10,    60, 
70,  90,  105,  220 


INDEX 


301 


History  of  English  Poetry,  War- 
ton's,  185,  192-4  ;  Southey  and, 
237 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  43  ;  D'Avenant 
dedicates  Goudibert  to,  45  ; 
Shadwell  and,  96 

Holcroft,  Thomas,  dramatist,  214 

Holland  House,  232 

Home  Office,  289 

Homer,  46 

Homer,  Pope's,  209 

Honiton,  279 

Hook,  Colonel  WiUiam,  207 

Hoop,  Vitruvius,  27 

Hopkins,  John,  joint-author  of 
English  version  of  Psalms,  109, 
110,   111 

Horace,  87,  98.  216,  242 

Horace,  Corneille's,   173 

Horatii,   173 

Hostihus,  TuUus,   173 

Houghton,  Lord.  See  Milnes, 
R.  M. 

Houndsditch,  239 

House  of  Commons,   171,  281 

House  of  Lords,  Austin  cham- 
pions, 281 

Huggins,  William,  translator  of 
Ariosto,   190 

Human  Tragedy,  Austin's,  282 

Humber,  213 

Humourists,  Shadwell's,  83,  85 

Hunt,  Leigh,  200 ;  name  sub- 
mitted for  the  Laureateship,  253 

Hurd,  Dr.,  on  Jonson's  flattery  of 
James  I,  23 

Hymens  Triumph,  Daniel's,  18 


Idylls  of    the    King,    Tennyson's, 

268,  269,  278 
//  Penseroso,  Milton's,   187 
In  Memoriam,  Tennyson's,  1,  253, 

258,  268,  269,  278 
In    Veronica's    Garden,    Austin's, 

287 
Inchbald,  Mr.,  207 
,  Mrs.,  on  Rowe's  plays,  117, 

118,  119,  127 
Incomparable  Poem  "  Go)idibert  " 

Vindicated,  47 
Indian  Emperor,  Dryden's,  62 


Indian  Mutiny,  265 

Indian   and  Colonial  Exhibition, 

271 
Ingratitude    of    a    Commonwealth, 

Tate's,   102 
Inner  Temple,  279 
Innocent  Epicure,  Tate's,   108 
Interludes,  Austin's,  282 
Ion   (Euripides),   173 
Ireland,  Samuel,  his  Vortigern,  214 
Isis,  Mason's,   188 
Island  Pri)icess,  Tate's,  102 
Islington,  164 

James  I  of  England,  16,  21,  32, 
37,  48,  206  ;  Daniel  sends 
Panegyricke  Congratulatorie  to, 
17  ;  grants  pension  to  Jonson, 
20  ;  fondness  for  masques,  22-3; 
relations  with  Jonson,  23,  25  ; 
promises  Jonson  Mastership  of 
the  Revels,  24-5 ;  proposes 
knighthood  for  Jonson,  25 

II,   56,   57,  64,   72,   78,   93, 

104;  reappoints  Drj'den,  71; 
restores  Dryden's  lapsed  pen- 
sion, 73 ;  employs  Dryden  to 
defend  R.C.  Church,  74  ;  Dr>'- 
den's  loyalty  to,  77  ;  Tate's 
poem  on  accession  of,  106 

Jameson  Raid,  Austin's  poem  on, 
281 

Jane  Shore,  Rowe's,   119 

Janiculum  (Rome),  4 

Jeptha's  Vow,  Tate's,  108 

Jermyn,  Henry  (Earl  of  St. 
Albans),  36 

Jersey,  Earl  of,  obtains  Laureate- 
ship      for      Whitehead,      169: 
Whitehead  and  family  of,  172, 
175,   183 

,  Lord,     appoints     Tate     to 

Laureateship,  104 

Jerusalem  Delivered,  Tasso's,  4 

Johnson,  Samuel,  186,  202 ;  on 
Dryden  and  D'Avenant's  ver- 
sion of  The  Tempest,  51  ;  on 
Drj^den,  58,  60,  62,  63,  66,  67, 
7 1  ;  on  Settle,  69  ;  on  Nahum 
Tate,  101-2,  112;  on  WilUam 
III,  117;  on  Rowe's  plays,  118, 
119,  125,  126;    on  Savage,   143, 


302 


INDEX 


Johnson,  Samuel   (cont.) — 

144,  145  ;  on  Gibber.  145.  147. 
160-1,  162  ;  on  Whitehead.  170, 
176 ;  on  T.  Warton.  187,  190. 
191  ;  his  Shakespeare,  191  ; 
Boswell's  Life  of,   192 

Jones,  Inigo,  23,  37,  38  ;  Jonson's 
quarrel  with,  26-7 

Jonson,  Ben,  10, 1 1, 16,  17, 33, 37,  38, 
40,  83,86,91.  94,  133,  206,  257  ; 
appointed  Laureate  by  James  I, 
20  ;  position  among  Laureates, 
20-1 ;  Queen  Elizabeth's  patron- 
age of,  21-2;  Verses  on  Queen 
Elizabeth,  22 ;  chief  masque- 
writer  to  James  I,  22-3 ; 
panegyrizes  the  Sovereign,  23  ; 
first  masque,  23-4  ;  Selden  and, 
24 ;  promised  the  Mastership 
of  the  Revels,  24 ;  offered  a 
knighthood,  25 ;  James  I's 
relations  with,  25  ;  position 
under  Charles  I,  25-6  ;  quarrels 
with  Inigo  Jones,  26-7  ;  loses 
Court  favour,  27  ;  receives  ,^100 
from  Charles  I,  27  ;  a  "  humble 
petition "  to  "  the  best  of 
monarchs,"  28 ;  Charles  I's 
generosity,  29  ;  tardy  payment 
of  Laureate  pension,  29  ;  rein- 
stated at  Court,  30  ;  royal  birth- 
day odes,  30;  An  Epigram 
Consolatory,  31  ;  significance  of 
his  Laureateship,  31-2  ;  opinion 
of  Samuel  Daniel,  16  ;  super- 
sedes Daniel,  18  ;  Shadwell's 
admiration  of,  81-2 

Joseph  Andrews,  Fielding's,  161 

Julius  CcBsar,  D'Avenant  and 
Dryden's  version  of  Shakes- 
peare's, 52 

Jupiter,   174 

Juvenal,  64,  73,  98,  104;  Shad- 
well's  translation  of  Tenth 
Satire  of,  89 


Kave,  John,  10  ;  "  humble  poet 
laureate  "  of  Edward  IV,  9 

Kean,  Edmund,  actor,  and  Tate's 
version  of  Lear,  101 

Keats,  John,  277 


Kemble,  J.  P.,  actor,  213  ;  ad- 
heres to  Tate's  version  of  Lear, 
101 

Kent,  287 

King  Arthur,  Dryden's,  70 

Lear,      Tate's      version      of 

Shakespeare's,   101-2  ;    Cibber's 
version  of,   150 

Knight,    Emer.    Prof.    Wm.,    244, 

247,  248,  289 
Knowles,     Sheridan,     his     name 

submitted  for  the  Laureateship, 

253 

Lady  Byron  Vindicated,  Mrs. 
Beecher  Stowe's,  280 

Jane  Grey,  Rowe's,  119,  120 

of  the  Lake,  Scott's,  279 

La  Fontaine,  174 

Lamb,  Charles,  16.  185 

Lamia's  Winter  Quarters,  Austin's, 
287 

Lancashire  Witches,  Shadwell's, 
84,  85 

Landor,  Walter  Savage,  260 

Laureate.     See  Laureateship 

Laureate,  The,   164,  240 

,  Lay   of  the    (Carmen   Nup- 

tiale),  221 

Laureates,  Volunteer,  10 

Laureateship,  its  remote  origin. 
2 ;  in  Greece  and  Rome,  2 ; 
Papacy  and,  3-4  ;  in  Germany, 
4-5  ;  in  Spain,  5-6  ;  in  Eng- 
land. 6  ;  university  and  royal 
laureates,  7  ;  first  mention  of,  7, 
9  ;  Jonson  the  first  holder  of, 
20  ;  during  Georgian  era,  21  ; 
conjoined  with  that  of  Historio- 
grapher Royal,  61  ;  Pope's 
burlesque  account  of,  156 ; 
Queen  Victoria  on,  252;  office 
vacant  for  three  years,  274 

Laurel,  or  the  Contests  of  the  Poets, 
Johnson's,  169 

L'Avare,  Moliere's,  83 

Law  Against  Lovers,  D'Avenant's, 
51 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Scott's, 
218,  219 

Lavs  of  the  Would-be  Laureates, 
Bon  Gaultier's,  289 


INDEX 


303 


Lear.     See  King  Lear 

Lectures    on    the    English     Poets, 

Hazlitt's,  185 
I-ee,  Nathaniel,  89 

,  Sir  Sidney,  35,   193 

Leeds,  279 

Leigh,  202 

Leipzig,   175 

Leo   X    crowns    Camillo    Querno 

with  laurel  wreath,  3 
Leonore,  Burger's,  215 
Leopold  of  Saxe-Coburg,  Prince, 

227,  228 
Les  Fdcheux,  Moliere's,  82 

Pricieuses  Ridicules, 

Molidre's,  94 

Lesson  in  Harmony,  Austin's,  287 

Le  Tassoni,  5 

Letter   to   Addison   on    the   King's 

Accession,  Eusden's,  138 
Letters,  Samuel  Johnson's,   125 
Leviathan,  Hobbes's,  96 
Libertine,  Shadwell's,  84 
Lick  at  the  Laureat,   163 
Life,    Manners    and    Opinions    of 

JEsopus  the  Tragedian,  163 
Light  of  Asia,  Sir  E.  Arnold's,  284 
Light    Brigade,     Tennyson     and 

charge  of,  264 
Lincoln,  248 

College,  Oxford.  36 

Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  London,  49, 

54,  82,   116 
Lincolnshire,   141 
Little      Barford,       Bedfordshire, 

Rowe's  birthplace,  114 
Lock,  Matthew,  musical  composer, 

48 
Locke,  John,   115 

,  Joseph,  279 

Lombard,  34 

Lombardy,  45,  266 

London  University,  279 

Longa,  Alba,   173 

Lothario  (Fair  Penitent),  118 

Louis   XIV,    75,    117;     Matthew 

Prior  at  Court  of,  105 
Louvre  (Paris),  D'Avenant  takes 

up  his  quarters  in  the,  42 
Love's  Last  Shift,  Cibber's,  149 
Love's  Welcome,  Jonson's,  30 
Lovelace  (Clarissa  Harlowe),  118 


Loyal  General,  Tate's,  100 

Loyal  Medal  ^' indicated,  lampoon 

on  Dryden,  67 
Lucan's  Pharsalia,  translated  by 

Thomas   May,    38  ;     translated 

by  Rowe,  126,  128 
Lucknow,  relief  of,  265 
Luther,  249  ;   his  hymn,  Ein'  feste 

Burg  ist  unser  Gott,  111 
Lyall,   Sir  Alfred,   233,   258  ;    on 

Wellington  ode,  263 
Lycidas,  Milton's,   169 
Lydgate,  John,  and  laurel,  9 
Lyrical  Poems,  Austin's,  282 
Lyttelton,  George,  Lord,  213 
Lytton,  Lord,  239 
,  Sir    Edward    Bulwer.     See 

Lytton,  Lord 


IVUcAULAY,    Lord,    1,    221,    289  ; 

on  Dryden,  56,  65,  71,  72,  73; 

on  Shadwell,  94  ;    on  Southey, 

237 
Macbeth,  D'Avenant's  version  of, 

50,  52 
Macclesfield,  Lord  Chancellor,  123 

,  Countess  of,  144 

MacFlecknoe,    Dryden's,    68,    75, 

79,  80,  85,  88,  89,  155 
MachiaveUi,  57,  65 
Macready,  William  C,  actor,  101  ; 

on  Rowe's  Tamerlane,  117 
Madonna's  Child,  Austin's,  282 
Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  207 
Malaga,   168 
Mallet,  David,  141 
Malone,  Edmund,  editor  of  Shake- 
speare, 24,  160 
Man  of  Mode,  Etherege's,  85 
Mant,  R.,   195,   197 
March,      Ausias,     Spanish     poet 

laureate,  5 
Marcia  (Cato),  170 
Marlborough,  Duke  of.  Prior's  ode 

on,  105  ;  Tate's  odes  on,  106-7  ; 

Eusden's  odes  on,  137 
Marmion,  Scott's,  219 
Maro,   160 
Marston,  John,  23 
Martial,  75,   187 
Martin,  the  regicide,  234 


304 


INDEX 


Martin,  Sir  Theodore,  joint-author 
of  Bon  Ganltier  Ballads,  239-40, 
289 

Marvell,  Andrew,  85 

Mary  II,  wife  of  WiUiam  III,  77, 
89,  90,  94  ;  Tate's  elegy  on,  106 

Mason,  William,  friend  of  Gray, 
131,  170,  171,  172,  173,  182, 
183,  187,  188,  202  ;  and  Lau- 
reateship,  168,  169  ;  on  War- 
ton's  History  of  English  Poetry, 
193 

Masque  of  Blackness,  Jonson's,  23 

Massinger,  Philip,  dramatist,   118 

Masson,  Prof.  David,  200 

"  Master  Henry  the  Versifier,"  8 

of  the  Revels,  49.  50,  151 

Maximilian  I,  4 

May,  Thomas,  rival  of  D'Avenant, 
38  ;  publishes  poem  at  Charles 
I's  request,  39  ;  official  poet  of 
Commonwealth,  39  ;  death  and 
burial,  39  ;    on  D'Avenant,  54 

Measure  for  Measitre,  Shake- 
speare's, D'Avenant's  version 
of,  50,  51 

Medal,  Dryden's,  67,  87 

of  John  Bayes,  Shadwell's, 

59,  67,  87 

Reversed,  Pordage's,  67 

Mennis,    Sir    John,    D'Avenant's 

friend,  39,  40 
Merlin,  278 

Merman,  Tennyson's,  240 
Merry  Margaret,  Skelton's,  13-14 
"  Merry  Monarch  "   (Charles  II), 

69 
Metamorphoses,  Ovid's,   132 
Middle     Temple,     London,     38  ; 

Shadwell  studies  in,  81  ;    Rowe 

studies  in,  115 
Middlesex,  81 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Pepys 

on,  51 
Milnes,  Richard  Monckton  (Lord 

Houghton),  255-6 
Milton,  John,  106,  115,  140,  169, 

178,    187,    197; 

D'Avenant,  44  ; 

minor  poems  of. 
Mint,  112 
Miscellanea   Sacra.  Tate's,    108 


intercedes  for 
Warton  edits 
200 


Miscellanies,  Pope's,  127 

Miser,  Shadwell's,  83 

Mist,  Mr.,  152,  153 

Moliere,  84,  86,  151,  153;  Shad- 
well's debt  to,  81-2;  Les 
Fdcheux,  82;  L'Avare,  83; 
Les  Precieuses  Ridicules,  94 

Monitor,  Tate's  contribution  to 
the,   108 

Monmouth,  the  "  Protestant 
Duke."  64,  65.  66 

Monroe,   148 

Montague,  Charles,  Earl  of  Hali- 
fax, 75 

Montaigne,   162 

Montgomery,   Robert,  poet,  239 

More,  Hannah,   118 

"  More  Roarings  of  the  Lion,"  142 

Morland,  Mrs.,  207 

Morpheus,  200 

Morris,  Sir  Lewis,  274 

Morris,  William,  274 

Moses,  60 

Mulgrave's  Essay  on  Satire,  64 

MtiSiPiis,  Mason's,   169 

Myers.  F.  W.  H.,  243 

Napoleon,  I,  224,  225  ;  Southey's 

poem  on,  226 

Ill,  260,  266 

Nash,  Thomas,  his  Pierce  Peiini- 

lesse,  15  ;   praises  Daniel's  Com- 

playnt  of  Rosamond ,  17 
Nassau,  92 
National  Anthem,  211  ;   Tennyson 

adds  two  stanzas  to,  266 
National  Review,  Austin  editor  of, 

281 
Naucratia,    or    Naval    Dominion, 

Pye's,   212 
New  Inn,  Jonson's  comedy,  27 
Newcastle,     Duke     of,     appoints 

Eusden    to   Laureateship,    135, 

136,  137,  138 
Newman,  Cardinal,  279 
No>i    amo    te,    Sabidi,    Martial's 

epigram,  75 
N on- Juror,  Cibber's  comedy,  151, 

152,   153 
Norfolk,  80,  81 
North,  Lord.  207 
Norwich,  231 


INDEX 


305 


Nottingham,   148 
Nuneham,  Lord,   175 

Obrechtus,  Thomas,  Count  Pala- 
tine, 4 

Observations  on  Faerv  Queene  of 
Spenser,  Warton's,  189,  190; 
Johnson  on,   190 

Observer  Observed,  Huggins's,   190 

Ode  in  Remembrance  of  Master 
Shakespeare,    D'Avenant's,     36 

Written  During  the  Negotia- 
tions with  Buonaparte,  226 

Written  During  the  War  with 


America,  226 
Odes  of  Horace,  Francis's,  216 
O'Divelly,  Tegue,  85 
"  Og  "  (Shadwell),  69,  79,  88,  89, 

103 
Ogilby,  John,  poetaster,  Tate  the 

"  poetical  child,"  of,  113 
Oldmixon,  John,  on  Eusden,  133, 

140 
Oldys,  William,  and  D'Avenant's 

paternity,  35  ;  on  Nahum  Tate, 

98 
Omnipresence  of  the  Deity,  Mont- 
gomery's, 239 
On  the  Danger  of  Writing  in  Verse, 

Whitehead's,   171 
a  Diseased  Old  Man,  Tate's 

poem,  108 

the    River   Duddon,    Words- 


worth's, 199 

Orange,  Prince  of,  90 

Orphan,  Otway's,  149,  152 

Osborne,  268 

Oscott  College,  279 

Otway,  Thomas,  dramatist,  96, 
149,   152,  215 

Oudenarde,   137 

Outram,  Sir  James,  266 

Ovid,  46,  98,  104,  132;  Art  of 
Love,  6-7 

Oxford,  Lord,  122 

,  36,  187,  195,  200,  202  ;   St. 

Mary's  Church,  6  ;  D'Avenant 
born  at,  34  ;  Tom  Brown's 
studies  at,  75  ;  Professor  of 
Poetry  at,  186,  192 ;  Warton 
at  Trinity  College,  186  ;  Mason 
on  students  of,   188  ;    Warton's 

20— (2341) 


Oxford  {cont.)  — 

love  of,  ISS,  189  ;  Warton 
entertains  Johnson  at,  190  ; 
Warton  made  Camden  Pro- 
lessor  of  History  at,  195  ; 
Warton  on  ale  of,  199  ;  Bod- 
leian Library,  203  ;  Magdalen 
College,  207 

Oxford  Sausage,  Warton's,   189 

Oxford  University,  189,  279  ; 
laureation  at,  6  ;  Baston  lau- 
reated  at,  8  ;  Skelton  and,  12  ; 
Richard  Edwards  at,  14  ; 
Samuel  Daniel  at,  17 ;  Pye  at,207 

Oxfordshire,   194 

Palamon  and  A  rcite,  Edwards's, 
14 

Palestine,  7 

Pallas,   13 

Pamphilus,  Elegies  of,  7 

Pan,  Peter,  201 

Panacea  :  A  Poem  on  Tea,  Tate's, 
108 

Pantisocracy,  235 

Paradise  Lost,  Milton's,  44 

Paradyse  of  Daynte  Devises, 
Edwards's,   14 

Parker,   127 

Parliaments,  Union  of  the,  119 

Parnassus,   154,   156 

Parsons,  Anthony,  father-in-law 
of  Rowe,   128 

Parsons,  Antonia,  wife  of  Rowe, 
128 

,  Sir  William,  223 

Pasquin,  Fielding's,   161 

Passing  of  Merlin,  Austin's,  278 

Pathetic  Apology  for  all  Laureates, 
Whitehead's,   182 

Patmore,  Coventry,  267 

Paxton,  Sir  Joseph,  261 

Peel,  Sir  Robert,  240 ;  confers 
pension  on  Southey,  and  offers 
him  a  baronetcy,  237  ;  presses 
Wordsworth  to  accept  Laureate- 
ship,  241-2  ;  grants  Tennyson 
a  Civil  List  pension,  253-4  ;  an 
admirer  of  Tennyson's  Ulysses, 
254 

Pembroke,  Earl  of.  Daniel  tutor 
to  son  of,  17 


306 


INDEX 


Pembroke  Castle,  270 

Pepys,  Samuel,  an  admirer  of 
D'Avenant's  Wits,  37  ;  on 
Shakespeare's  plays,  51  ;  on 
Shadwell's  Sullen  Lovevs  and 
Royal  Shepherdess,  83 

Percy,  Thomas,  (bishop),  193 

Peregrinus,  Gulielmus  (William 
the  Foreigner),  versifier  to 
Richard  I,   7 

Persepolis,   1 16 

"  Peter  Bell,"  Wordsworth's,  243 

" Pindar."       See       Wolcot, 

Dr.  John 

Peterborough,  Earl  of,  170 

Petrarch,  5  ;  receives  laurel  crown 
at  Rome,  3,  283,  284  ;  Chau- 
cer's supposed  meeting  with, 
8-9 

Ph-edrus,   174 

Phalaris,  Bentley's  Epistles  of,  134 

Pharsalia,  Lucan's,  translated  by 
Thomas  May,  38  ;  translated 
by  Rowe,  126,  128 

Philips,  Ambrose,  poetaster,    140 

Pickering,  Sir  Gilbert,  cousin  of 
Dryden,  57,  59 

Pierce  Pennilesse,  Nash's,   15 

Pindar,  209 

Pinner,  Middlesex,  216 

Piozzi,  Mrs.,   119,   191 

Pisa,  235 

Pitt,  William,  209  ;  appoints  Pye 
to  Laureateship,  208 

Place,  Lord,   161 

Platonick  Lovers,  D'Avenant's, 
38 

Plays  and  Poems,  Whitehead's, 
183 

Pleasures  of  Melancholy,  Warton's, 
187 

Memory,  Rogers's,  252 

Poems  on  Divine  and  Moral  Sub- 
jects, Tate's,  108 

Poetics  of  Aristotle,  210 

Poetry  of  the  Period,  Austin's, 
276,  277.  280 

Poets'  Corner,  Westminster  Abbey, 
95,   127 

Poets  Laureate  of  England,  by 
Walter  Hamilton,  289 

Pompey,   126 


Pope,  Alexander,  35,  53,  67,  78, 
121,  122,  127,  128.  129,  136, 
139,  143,  157,  160,  161,  162. 
163,  165,  169,  180,  186,  190, 
192,  194.  199,  208,  209  ;  pillories 
Camillo  Querno  in  Dunciad, 
3  ;  on  Skelton,  13  ;  on  D'Aven- 
ant's Gondiberf,  47 ;  takes 
MacFlecknoe  as  model  of 
Dunciad,  68  ;  on  Nahum  Tate, 
98,  113;  Rowe's  friendship 
with,  116;  on  Rowe's  Jane 
Shore,  1 19  ;  epitaph  on  Rowe, 
127  ;  on  Eusden,  131,  137  ;  on 
Cibber,  147,  148  ;  pillories 
Cibber  in  The  Dunciad,  155-6  ; 
his  quarrel  with  Cibber,  157-9  ; 
Whitehead  and,  170,  171 

,  Sir     Thomas,     founder     of 

Trinity  College,  Oxford,   189 

Popish  Plot,  64 

Pordage,  Samuel,  66,  67 

Porson,  Richard,  205 

Porter,  Endymion,  36 

Prescott,  W.  H.,  historian,  117 

Prince  Arturis  Creacyoun,  Skel- 
ton's,   12 

Prince  Consort,  249,  251,  252,  253, 
261,  269  ;  Chancellor  of  Cam- 
bridge University,  240 ;  asks 
Wordsworth  to  write  an  ode. 
247  ;  Tennyson's  dream  of  the, 
and  Idylls  of  the  King,  268 
Lucifer,    Austin's   drama. 


254: 

Prince 
282 
Prince 


218, 


Victoria, 

106,    136; 

Hind  and 
unofficial 
dedicates 


Regent  (George  TV), 
220,  221,  223,  227 

Princess     Royal.     See 
Princess 

Prior,  Matthew,  77, 
parodies  Dryden's 
the  Panther,  75  ; 
Court  poet,  105  ; 
Carmen  5ec;//fl>'e  to  William  III. 
105  ;  composes  ode  on  Marl- 
borough's victories,    105 

Prior  Claim,  Pye's,  213 

Probationary  Odes  for  the  Laureate- 
ship.   196 

Professor    of    Poetry  at    Oxford, 
186,   192 

Progress  of  Refinement,  Pye's,  210 


INDEX 


307 


Propertius,   108  [181 

Prophecy  of  Famine,   Churchill's, 

Prosopopoia  {Mother  Hiibbeid's 
Tale),  Spenser's,   15 

Protuccius,  Conradus  Celtes,  Poet 
Laureate  of  Germany,  4 

Prynne,  William,  historical  writer, 
137 

Psalmody,  Tate's  Essay  on,  109 

Psalms,  Tate  and  Brady's  version 
of,  97,  98,  109-12;  Supplement 
to  Tate  and  Brady  version  of, 
110,  111  ;  Sternhold  and  Hop- 
kins's version  of,  109,  110,  111 

Psyche,  Shadwell's,  84 

Purcell,  Henry,  musical  composer, 
48 

Puritans,  47,  48,  49  ;  Dryden  and 
the,  57.  60 

Pvbus,   Charles  Small,   poetaster, 
'205 

Pye,  Henry,  father  of  the  Laureate, 
206 

,  Henry   James.   21,   29,   97, 

131,  218,  223,  282;  Gibbon's  plea 
for  abolishing  Laureateship, 
204 ;  a  ridiculous  Laureate, 
204  ;  Scott  and  Byron  on,  204- 
5  ;  Porson's  epigram  on,  205  ; 
poetry  and  police,  206  ;  birth 
and  distinguished  ancestry,  206  ; 
a  link  with  Ben  Jonson's  Lau- 
reateship, 206  ;  at  Magdalen 
College,  Oxford,  207  ;  enters 
politics,  207  ;  appointed  Poet 
Laureate  by  Pitt,  208  ;  be- 
comes police  magistrate  for 
■Westminster,  208  ;  an  incor- 
rigible scribbler,  209  ;  his 
absurd  odes,  209-12;  relin- 
quishes tierce  of  Canary  wine 
for  ;^27,  212  ;  his  magnion  opus, 
212-3  ;  his  dramatic  career, 
213-4  ;  writes  a  prologue  for 
Ireland's  Vortigern,  214 ;  his 
Comments  on  the  Commoitators 
of  Shakespeare,  214-5  ;  hisnovels, 
215  ;  death,  216  ;  his  charac- 
ter, 216  ;  his  place  as  a  Lau- 
reate, 217 
-,  Sir  Robert,  206 


Pye  et  parvus  Pybus,  205 


Quakerism,  54 

Quarrels       of       Authors,       Isaac 

D'lsraeUs,  47 
Quarterly  Review,  220.  221.  230 
Queen  Entertained  by  Countess  of 

Anglesey,  D'Avenant's  poem.  53 
Queensberry.  Duke  of.  123 
Querno.    Camillo.    4  ;     recites   his 

poem  Alexias  on  an   island   in 

the    Tiber.    3  ;     mentioned    in 

Pope's  Dunciad,  3 
Quilhnan,  Edward,  son-in-law  of 

Wordsworth,   246.   247,   248 

Rabelais,   11.   133 
Raleigh,  Sir  Walter.   16.  211 
Raleigh,  Sewell's  Sir  Walter,   151 
Randolph  :  A  Tale  of  Polish  Grief , 

Austin's.  280 
Ranelagh.   179 
Rawnsley.  H.  D..  255 
Reasons  of  Mr.  Bayes's  Changing 

His  Religion,  75 
Mr.  Hains  the  Player's 

Conversion  and  Re-Conversion ,!?> 
Reed,  Professor.  245 
Reeve,  Ann,  actress,  62 
Reformation,   10,   11 
Regent,  Prince.  See  Prince  Regent 
Rehearsal,  Buckingham's,  61,  62, 

157 
Rejected   Addresses,   by   Jas.    and 

Horace  Smith,  196 
Relapse,  \z.nhxng\v's,  The.  149,  164 
Religio  Laid,  Dryden's,  72 
Reliques  of  A  ncient  English  Poetry, 

Percy's,  193 
Remedy  of  Love,  Ovid's,  104 
Renaissance,    laureations   revived 

at.  3 
Restoration,    37,   39,   58,   60.   81, 

87,  96,  100,  119,  121,  147 

drama,  49,  50 

Revolution,   English,   55,   76,   78, 

89,  90,  93,  133,  148 
Rewards  of  Virtue,  Fountain's,  83 
Rej'nolds,  Sir  Joshua,   191 
Rich,  Airs  ,  Cromwell's  daughter, 

50 
Richard  I,  7 

Richard  I,  Sir  J.  B.  Burges's,  216 
Richard  II,  and  Chaucer,  8 


308 


INDEX 


Richard  II,  Tate's  version  of 
Shakespeare's,  100 ;  Gibber's 
version  of,    150 

Richardson,  Samuel,  162 ;  an 
admirer  of  Rowe's  Faiy  Peni- 
tent,  118 

Richmond,  Frances,  first  Duchess 
of,  36 

Ridicule,  Whitehead's  essay  on, 
172 

Riflemen,  Form  !  Tennyson's,  267 

Rise  and  Progress  of  Priestcraft, 
Tate's,   108 

Robert  the  Bruce,  8 

Robinson,  Henry  Crabb,  247 

Rochester,  Earl  of,  69  ;  patron  of 
Settle,  62 ;  his  hatred  of 
Dryden,  63-4  ;  on  Shadwell, 
79-80,  82 

,  Bishop  of,  95 

Rogers,  Samuel,  Byron  and,  232  ; 
Wordsworth  wears  Court  dress 
of,  244  ;  offered  Laureateship, 
252 ;  declines  owing  to  age, 
253  ;  supports  Tennyson  for 
Laureateship,  253-4  ;  consulted 
by  Lord  John  Russell  as  to 
bestowal  of  laurel,  254 ;  offers 
Tennyson  his  Court  dress,  256 

Roman  Catholic,  Austin  a,  279 

Catholicism,     D'Avenant    a 

convert  to,  42  ;  Dryden's  con- 
version to,  71-3 

Empire,  2 

Roman  Father,  Whitehead's  173 

Romantic  fiction  in  Europe,    193 

Romeo  and  Juliet,   121 

Rosciad,  Churchill's,   180 

Rowe,  Charlotte,  daughter  of 
dramatist,   127,    129 

,  John,  son  of  dramatist,  128 

,  Nicholas,     112,     135,     151, 

167  ;  compared  with  Tate,  114; 
a  considerable  literary  figure, 
114;  birth  and  upbringing, 
114-5;  a  law  student,  115; 
exchanges  the  law  for  the  stage, 
115  ;  Congreve  praises  his  first 
tragedy,  116;  friendship  with 
Pope  and  Addison,  1 16  ;  popu- 
larity of  Tamerlane,  1 16  ; 
Macready  and  Mrs.  Siddons  in 


Rowe,  Nicholas  {cont.) — 

Tamerlane,  111;  Johnson  and 
the  Fair  Penitent,  1 18  ;  Jane 
Shore,  1 19  ;  Lady  Jane  Grey, 
119;  The  Biter,  120;  signifi- 
cance of  his  Shakespearian 
labours,  121-2  ;  his  Whig  senti- 
ments, 122  ;  his  official  posts, 
123 ;  succeeds  Tate  in  the 
Laureateship,  123  ;  his  Lau- 
reate verses,  124  ;  Colin's  Com- 
plaint, 125  ;  translates  Lucan's 
Pharsalia,  126  ;  his  premature 
death,  127  ;  buried  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  127  ;  Pope's 
epitaph  on,  127-8  ;  George  I's 
generosity  to  his  widow,  128 
his  magnetic  personality,  129 
wit  and  man  of  fashion,  129 
his  place  in  literature,  130 

Rowley,  Thomas,   194 

Roxburgh,  Lord,  18 

Royal  Convert,  Rowe's,  118 

Shepherdess,   Shadwell's,   83 

Royal  Society,  85 

Rubicon,  41 

Russell,  Lord  John,  submits  names 
for  the  Laureateship,  253  ;  con- 
sults Samuel  Rogers  as  to 
bestowal  of  laurel,  254 

Rutland,  Countess  of,  18 

Rutlandshire,   148 

Rydal  Mount,  240,  242,  289 

Rymer,  Thomas,  historian  and 
archaeologist,    105 

Rysbrack,  Michael,  sculptor,  127 

St.  Albans,  Henry  Jermyn,  Earl 
of,  36,  42 

George's,  Southwark,  Tate's 

burial  place,  112 

George's  Day,  ode  on,  236 

James's  Palace,  222 

Park,  London,  222 


—  Margaret's  churchyard,  Lon- 
don, 39 

Mary       Overy       Church, 


133 


Gower's  monument  in,  9 

Peter's  School,  York, 

Sacheverell,  66 

Sacred  and  Profane  Love,  Austin's, 

286 


INDEX 


309 


Saintsbury,  Prof.,  on  Dryden's 
change  of  religion,  71-2 

Salisbury,  Lord,  and  vacant 
Laureateship,  274-5  ;  Austin's 
eulogy  of,  275  ;  Austin  an  ally 
of,  281,  283 

Salmacida  Spolia,  D'Avenant's, 
38 

Sampson,   Dominie,  265 

Sanderson,  Mrs.,  wife  of  Better- 
ton,  50 

Sant  'Onofrio  (monastery),  4 

Sapphics,  232 

Satan,  Montgomery's,  239 

"  Satanic  school,"  234 

Satire  on  Friendship,  171 

Savage,  Richard,  "  \'olunteer  Lau- 
reate," 143,  144 ;  verses  on 
Queen  Caroline,  145 

Savonarola,  Austin's  tragedy  of, 
282 

School  for  Lovers,  V^hitehedi^'s,  173 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  104,  215,  221, 
238,  279,  280  ;  on  D'Avenant's 
Gondibert,  45  ;  on  Dryden,  60  ; 
66,  71,  72,  73  ;  on  Shadwell,  68, 
79,  80;  on  Settle,  62;  in- 
debtedness to  Shadwell's  Squire 
of  A  Isatia,  94  :  on  Nahum  Tate, 
97  ;  on  Rowe's  Fair  Penitent, 
118;  on  Warton's  History  of 
English  Poetry,  193 ;  on  Pye, 
94 ;  Laureateship  offered  to, 
218  ;  declined  by,  219-20 ; 
tries  to  secure  Laureateship  for 
Southey,  220 ;  congratulates 
Southey,  222  ;   on  Southey,  231 

Scowrers,  Shadwell's,  94 

Season  :  A  Satire,  Austin's,  280-1 

Sedgwick,  Adam,  geologist,  250 

Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  83 

Selden,  John,  4,  5  ;  Titles  of 
Honour,  2,  4,  24  ;  relations 
with  Jonson,  24 

Senate  House,  Cambridge,  250 

Session  of  the  Poets,  Suckling's,  40, 
136 

Settle,  Elkanah,  64,  65,  66,  67, 
84,  85,  103,  140;  attacks 
Dryden  in  Empress  of  Morocco, 
62 ;  Dryden's  abuse  of,  63 ; 
Shadwell  a  worse  poet  than,  80 

SOA— (2341) 


Seville  University  and  laureation, 
Sewell,  151  [5 

Shadwell,    John,    father    of    the 

Laureate,  80-1 
,  Sir  John,  son  of  the  Lau- 
reate, 95,  96 
-.  Thomas,  65,  67,  68,  69,  75, 


77.  97,  103,  104,  105,  114,  123. 
124,  132,  155,  167,  175  ;  on 
Dryden's  poverty,  59  ;  Dryden 
co-operates  with,  63  ;  fame  due 
to  Dryden,  79  ;  his  literary 
position,  79  ;  his  verse,  80 ; 
birth  and  ancestry,  80-1  ;  educa- 
tion, 81  ;  enters  on  dramatic 
career,  81  ;  debt  to  Ben  Jonson 
and  Moliere,  81  ;  his  view  of 
comedy,  82  ;  early  plays,  82-3  ; 
"  improves  "  Shakespeare,  83  ; 
his  plagiarism,  84  ;  his  version 
of  Timon  of  Athens,  84;  The 
Lancashire  Witches,  84-5  ;  quar- 
rel with  Dryden,  85-6  ;  The 
Medal  of  John  Bayes,  87  ;  Dry- 
den's attack  in  Second  Part  of 
Absalom  and  Achitophel,  88  ; 
reply  of,  89  ;  succeeds  Dryden 
as  Laureate,  89  ;  Whig  loyalty, 
90 ;  celebrates  his  triumph, 
90-1  ;  his  Laureate  odes,  91  ; 
glorifies  the  "  great  Nassau," 
92 ;  Votum  Perenne,  93 ;  The 
Squire  of  A  Isatia,  93;  later 
plays,  94 ;  death,  94  ;  monu- 
ment in  Westminster  Abbey, 
95  ;  Dr.  Nicholas  Brady's 
funeral  oration,  95  ;  personal 
characteristics,  95-6  ;  politician 
rather  than  poet,  96 

Shaftesbury,  Lord,  64,  65,  66,  87  ; 
satirised  in  Dryden's  Medal,  67 

Shakespeare,  50,  51,  52,  85,  97, 
98,  127,  130,  143,  150,  153, 
161,  190,  191,  214,  278  ;  D'Aven- 
ant  reputed  to  be  son  of,  35  ; 
Shadwell's  version  of  Tempest, 
83;  of  Timon  of  Athens,  84; 
Tate's  version  of  Richard  II, 
100  ;  of  Lear,  101-2  ;  of  Corio- 
lanus,  102  ;  Rowe's  labours  on, 
121-2;  Pye's  Comments  on  the 
Commentators  of,  214-15 


310 


INDEX 


Shannon,  river,  213 

She    Would  and  She    Would  Not, 
Gibber's,  166 

Shefifield,    John.       See    Duke    of 
Buckingham 

Shenstone,  WilUam,  125 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  214 

Shirley,  James,  dramatist,  37 

Shore,  John,   165 

Short  View  of  Immorality  of  Eng- 
lish Stage,  CoUier's,   102,   120 

Sicilian  Usurper,  Tate's,  101 

Sicorax,  51 

Siddons,  Mrs.,   117,  119,  213 

Sidmouth,  Lord.    See  Addington, 
Henry 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  36,   190  ;    his 
Astrophel  and  Stella,  18 

Siege  of  Meatix,  Pye's,  213 

Rhodes,     D'Avenant's, 


48,  50 


Kaye's,  9 


Six  Olympic  Odes  of  Pindar,  Pye 
translates,  209-10 

Skelton,  John,  9,  189  ;  receives 
laurel  at  Oxford,  6  ;  Poet 
Laureate  and  Regius  Orator, 
1 1  ;  Erasmus  and,  1 1  ;  Southey 
and,  1 1  ;  hastens  the  Reforma- 
tion, 1 1  ;  Caxton's  appreciation 
of,  12;  his  Court  poems,  12; 
tutor  to  Henry  VIII,  12; 
Speculum  Principis,  12 ;  The 
Bowge  of  Court,  12  ;  Henry  VII 
presents  him  with  a  robe,  12  ; 
relations  with  Wolsey,  13 ; 
The  Garlande  of  Laurell,  13  ; 
Pope  and,  13  ;  Merry  Margaret, 
14 

Skiddaw,  238 

Sliding   on   Skates,    Tate's   poem, 

Smerk,  85  [108 

Smith,  Horace,  joint-author  of 
Rejected  Addresses,  196 

,     James,     joint-author      of 

Rejected  Addt esses,  196 

.  William,  M.P.  for  Norwich, 

231,  234 

Smollett,  Tobias,  on  Gibber's 
comedies,   150 

Smyth,  Richard,  university  lau- 
reate, 6 


Soho,   140 

Somers,  Lord,  67 

Somerset,  195 

,  Earl  of,  37 

House  (London),    18 

South,    Dr.    Robert,    divine    and 
controversialist,  115 

South  Audley  St.  Chapel,  London, 
184 

Southerne,     Thomas,     dramatist, 
116,   120 

Southey,  Robert,  21,  239,  240, 
241,  252,  256,  257  ;  on  Shad- 
well,  91;  on  Tate,  97;  on 
Eusden,  132;  on  Skelton,  11  ; 
on  Dryden  and  D'Avenant's 
Tempest,  52  ;  on  Pye,  217  ;  Scott 
attempts  to  secure  Laureate- 
ship  for,  219-20 ;  intimates 
willingness  to  accept  on  terms 
221  ;  his  installation,  222 
Scott's  congratulations,  222 
his  "  odeows  "  job,  223  ;  Carmen 
Triumphale ,  225  ;  an  ode  on 
Bonaparte,  226  ;  Carmen  Aiilica 
Til  ;  Carmen  Nuptiale,  Til 
ode  on  Queen  Charlotte,  228-9 
piratical  publication  of  Wat 
Tyler,  229-30  ;  his  political 
apostasy,  230 ;  his  Letter  to 
William  Smith,  Esq.,M.P.,  231  ; 
quarrel  with  Byron,  232  ;  Don 
Juan  dedicated  to,  232 ;  his 
Visio7i  of  Judgment,  233 ; 
Byron's  scathing  reply,  234-5  ; 
challenged  by  Byron  to  a  duel, 
235  ;  ode  for  St.  George's  Day, 
236 ;  royal  birthday  odes  go 
out  of  fashion,  237  ;  receives  a 
government  pension  of  ;^300, 
and  is  offered  a  baronetcy,  237  ; 
his  position  as  a  Laureate, 
237-8  ;  Wordsworth's  epitaph 
on,  238 

Sovereign,  Pybus's  poem,  The,  205 
Spain,  laureations  in,  5 
Spanish  Friar,  Dryden's,  65,  72 
Spectator,      162 ;       Eusden     con- 
tributes to  Addison's,  142 
Speculum  Principis,  Skelton's,  12 
Spence,  Joseph,  anecdotist,    123  ; 
on  Rowe,  129 


INDEX 


311 


Spenser,  Edmund,  160,  187,  189, 
190.    197,   222,   225,   237  ;      his 
epigram     on     Elizabeth,      15 
Mother  Hubberd's   Tale,    15-16 
persona    grata    at    Court,     16 
dedicates     Faerie     Queene     to 
Elizabeth,  16  ;    praises  Samuel 
Daniel,   16 

Spofforth,  Yorkshire,  Eusden's 
birthplace,   133 

Sportsman' s  Dictionary,  Pye  edits, 
216 

Sprat,  Thomas,  poet,  58,  62 

Spring  and  Autumn  in  Ireland, 
Austin's,  287 

Spring  Gardens,  Charing  Cross, 
164 

Squire  of  Alsatia,  Shadwell's,  93-4 

Staffordshire,  80 

Standard  newspaper,  281-282 

Statius  (Court  poet),  receives 
bays,  2,  138 

Steele,  Sir  Richard,  136,  162; 
friendship  with  Rowe,  127  ; 
with  Eusden,  142  ;  joins  Cibber 
in  theatrical  management,  151 

Steevens,  George,  212 

Stephen,  Sir  LesUe,  234 

Sterne,  Laurence,  133 

Sternhold,  Thomas,  joint-author 
of  English  version  of  Psalms, 
109,   110,   111 

Stillingfleet,  Bishop,  Dryden's 
controversy  with,  74 

StirUng  Castle,  8 

Stock  Jobbers,  Volunteers  or.  Shad- 
well's,  94 

Stonyhurst,  279 

Stowe,  Mrs.  Beecher,  Austin  re- 
plies to  her  Lady  Byron  Vindi- 
cated, 280 

Strasbourg,  4,  5 

Stratford,  35 

Stuart,  Lady  Arabella,  37 

Suckling,  Sir  John,  on  D'Avenant, 
40,  41  ;  his  Session  of  the  Poets, 
136 

Suffolk,  81 

Sullen  Lovers,  Shadwell's,  81,  82, 
86 

Suspicious  Husband,  150 

Sweepers,  VSliitehead's,  174 


"  Sweet  Swan  of  Isis  "  (D'Aven- 
ant), 36 

Swift,  Jonathan,  78,  127,  129,  133, 
162  ;  on  Nahum  Tate,  99,  112  ; 
on  Cibber,  147 

Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  274 

Swinford  Old  Manor,  Austin's 
home,  283,  286,  287 

Sydenham,  261 

Sylvester,  Edward,  tutor  of 
D'Avenant,  36 

Tail's  Magazine,  239,  289 

Tale  of  True  Love,  Austin's,  286 

of  a  Tub,  Jonson's,  27 

Talfourd,  Sir  T.  N.,  245 

Tamerlane,  Rowe's,  116,  117,  119 
127 

Tancred,  198 

Tangier,  81 

Tartu ffe,  Moli^re's,   151 

Tasso,  Torquato,  offered  bays  by 
Clement  VIII,  4  ;  dies  at  Rome, 
4 ;  Eusden  translates  and 
writes  Life  of,  141 

Tate,  Nahum,  65,  68,  77,  114,  123, 
132,  133,  167,  168,  197  ;  his 
poetical  record,  97  ;  Scott's 
opinion  of,  97  ;  his  versatility, 
98  ;  his  character,  98  ;  parent- 
age, birth,  and  education,  99  ; 
publishes  volume  of  poems,  100; 
writes  for  the  stage,  100  ;  brings 
Shakespeare  up  to  date,  100-1  ; 
his  version  of  Ki)ig  Lear,  101  ; 
his  comedies,  102  ;  joins 
Jeremy  Collier  in  attempting 
to  reform  stage,  102  ;  friend- 
ship with  Dryden,  103 ;  helps 
to  write  Second  Part  of 
Absalom  and  Achitophel,  103  ; 
translates  Ovid  and  Juvenal, 
104  ;  appointed  Poet  Laureate, 
104  ;  Matthew  Prior,  the  rival 
of,  105 ;  his  odes,  106-7  ;  an 
unsavoury  poet,  108 ;  his  master- 
piece, 108  ;  co-operates  with 
Nicholas  Brady  in  producing 
metrical  version  of  the  Psalms, 
109  ;  his  Essay  on  Psalmody, 
109  ;  his  part  in  the  New  Ver- 
sion,   110;     its    defects,     111; 


312 


INDEX 


Tate,  Nahum  {coiif.) — 

specimens  of  doggerel  rendering, 
111;  veiled  political  allusions, 
112;  his  sad  end,  112 ;  Pope's 
portrait  of,   113 

Tatler,  162  ;  Eusden's  poem,  To 
the  Author  of  the,  132 

Taunton,  281 

Taylor,  Sir  Henry,  256 ;  name 
submitted  for  the  Laureate- 
ship,  253 

Tea,  Tate's  poem  on,  108 

Teate,  Faithful,  father  of  Nahum 
Tate.  99 

Tempest,  Shakespeare's,  52  ; 
D'Avenant's  version  of,  50  ; 
Pepys  on,  51  ;  Shadwell's  ver- 
sion of,  83 

Temple  of  Love,  D'Avenant's,  37, 
38 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord,  1 ,  2,  20, 
133,  240,  251,  274,  275,  276, 
279,  283,  284  ;  Wordsworth's 
appreciation  of,  245  ;  Samuel 
Rogers  supports,  253-4  ;  Lau- 
reateship  offered  to,  254  ; 
decides  to  accept,  255  ;  attends 
his  first  levee,  256  ;  an  ideal 
Laureate,  257  ;  his  conception 
of  the  office,  257-8  ;  charac- 
teristics, 258  ;  first  verses  to 
Queen  Victoria,  259  ;  national 
and  patriotic  poems,  259-60  ; 
Hands  A II  Round,  260  ;  Exhibi- 
tion ode,  261-2;  Welhngton 
ode,  262-64  ;  Charge  of  the 
Light  Brigade,  264-5  ;  Defence 
of  Lucknow,  265-6  ;  adds  two 
stanzas  to  National  Anthem, 
266  ;  Riflemen,  Form  !  267  ; 
Prince  Consort  and  Idylls  of 
the  King,  268  ;  Queen  Victoria 
and  In  Memoriam,  268-9  ; 
Welcome  to  Alexandra,  269  ; 
offered  baronetcy  by  Gladstone 
and  Disraeli,  270  ;  raised  to  the 
Peerage  by  Gladstone,  271  ; 
later  odes,  271-2;  Queen  Vic- 
toria's tribute,  272  ;  his  death, 
a  national  loss,  272-3  ;  Austin 
and,  276-7,  278 

,  Lady,  278 


Tennyson,  Hallam,  Lord,  270,  272, 

278 
Ter  Tria,  Faithful  Teate's,  99 
Terence,  170 

Tethys  Festival,  Daniel's,  17 
Thackeray,  W.  M.,  on  Southey's 

verse,  238 
Theatre  Royal,  London,  102 
Theatre  Royal  turned  into  a  Monte- 
bank's  Stage,   153 
Theobald,  Lewis,  dramatist,  origi- 
nal hero  of  The  Dimciad,   143, 

145,   155,  158 
Theocritus,  T.  Warton's  edition  of, 

192 
Theodosius   the   Great,    abolishes 

laureations,  2 
Thespis,   149 
Third    of    February,    Tennyson's, 

262 
Thomson,  James,  poet,  141 
Thou  Good  and  Faithful  Servant, 

Austin's,  275 
Thoughts  on  Human  Life,  Tate's, 

108 
Three  Hours  After  Marriage,  157, 

158 
Threnodia   Augustalis,    Dryden's, 

70 
Tibbald,   154,   157 
Tiber  (river),  3,  249 
Tillotson,  Archbishop,  Tate's  elegv 

on,  107 
Times  newspaper,  264,  266 
Timon  of  Athens,  the  Man-Hater, 

Shadwell's,  84,  96 
Titles  of  Honour,  Selden's,  2,  4,  24 
To  River  Lodon,  Warton's,  199 
"  Tomkinson,      Dudley  "      (Tom 

Brown),  75 
Tonson,  Jacob,  bookseller,  77,  103 
Touchwood,  Lord,  149 
Toulouse,   10 

Tower  of  Babel,  Austin's,  282 
Tower    of    London,    D'Avenant's 

imprisonment   in,    33,    44,    47  ; 

Shaftesbury's  imprisonment  in, 

66 
Townsend,  Charles,   171 
Treby,   Lord  Chief  Justice,    115 
Trinity    College,    Cambridge,    57, 

134 


INDEX 


313 


Trinity  College,  DubUn,  99 
,  Oxford,     Warton     at, 

186,   191,  200 
Trip  to  Scotland,  Whitehead's,  174 
Triumph  of  Isis,  Warton's,    187, 

188 
Triumphant     Widow,     Duke     of 

Newcastle's,  94 
Triumphs  of  the  Prince  d' Amour, 

D'Avenant's,  38 
Truce  of  God  :   A  King's  Bequest, 

Austin's,  285-6 
Tullus  Hostilius,  173 
Turberville,   George,   his  elegy  on 

Richard  Edwards,    15 
Tumham,  Stephen,  8 
Twelfth  Night,  38 
Tyburn,  59 
Tyrconnel,  Lord,  144 

Ulysses,  Rowe's  tragedy,  118 
Upon  Fighting  Will,  lampoon  on 
D'Avenant,  44 

Vanbrugh,  Sir  John,  dramatist, 
149 

Variety  :  A  Tale  for  Married 
People.   174 

Venables,  255 

Verses  to  the  People  of  England, 
Whitehead's,   176 

Spoken  at  Public  Commence- 
ment of  Cambridge,  Eusden's, 
133 

Versificator  Regis,  7 

Victoria,  Queen,  240,  241,  242, 
247,  249,  250,  251,  253,  260, 
266,  270 ;  Wordsworth  and, 
245,  246  ;  offers  Rogers  Lau- 
reateship,  252  ;  offers  Tennyson 
Laureateship,  254  ;  Tennyson's 
verses,  to,  259,  269  ;  Tenny- 
son's interview  with,  268  ;  ad- 
mirer of  In  Memoriam,  269  ; 
tribute  to  Tennyson,  272 ; 
Alfred  Austin  and,  275,  282, 
284-5 

,  Princess    (Princess    Royal), 

266 

Victorian  era,  238.  252,  257,  258 

Victorious  Reign  of  Edward  III , 
Thomas  May's  poem,  39 


Villiers,  Viscount,  172,  173,  175 
Virgil,     46.     73,    98,     186,     191  ; 

Dryden's  translation  of,  77 
Virginia,  43 

Virtuoso,  Shadwell's,  67,  81,  84,  86 
Vision  of  Judgment,  Byron's,  204, 

234,  235 
,  Southey's,  233 

the       Twelve       Goddesses, 

Daniel's,   17 

"  Volunteer  Laureates,"   10 

movement,  267 

Volunteers  or  Stock  Jobbers,  Shad- 
well's.  94 

Vortigern,  Ireland's,  214 
Votum  Perenne,  Shadwell's,  93 

Wale,  versifier  to  Henry  I,  7 

Waller,  Edmund,  58  ;  on  D'Aven- 
ant's Gondibert,  34,  47 

Walmisley,  T.  A.,  musical  com- 
poser, 249 

Walpole,  Horace,  202  ;  on  CoUey 
Gibber,  146.  162;  on  White- 
head. 173  ;  on  Warton's  His- 
tory of  English  Poetry,  193 

.     Sir     Robert,      141,      143; 

Eusden's  verses  on,  140 

War  Elegies  of  Tyrtceus  imitated, 
Pye's,  212 

War  Office,  267 

Warburton,  Bishop,  143  :  on 
D'Avenant,  54 

Ward,  Dr.  A.  W.,  on  Shadwell,  94 

,  T.  H.,  174,  179 

Warton,  Joseph,  186,  196,  201  ; 
on  Rowe's  version  of  Lucan's 
Pharsalia,   126 

,  Thomas.  10,  204,  208,  252  ; 

on  university  laureates,  6  ;  on 
origin  of  royal  laureate,  7  ;  on 
"  Master  Henry  the  Versitier." 
8  ;  on  Richard  Edwards.  14  ; 
influence  on  Enghsh  poetry, 
185-6  ;  his  personality,  186  ; 
birth  and  ancestry,  186  ;  his 
elder  brother,  Joseph,  186  ; 
career  at  Oxford,  186  ;  takes 
holy  orders,  186  ;  early  poems, 
187  ;  The  Triumph  of  Isis, 
187-8  ;  Poet  Laureate  of  his 
College,     188-9  ;      his    love    of 


314 


INDEX 


Wartou,  Thomas  {coiU.) — 
Oxford,  189  ;  publishes  his 
Observations  on  the  Faery 
Qiteene  of  Spenser,  189  ;  John- 
son's appreciation,  190 ;  rela- 
tions of  Johnson  and,  190-1  ; 
Boswell's  tribute  to,  191-2; 
elected  Professor  of  Poetry  at 
Oxford,  192 ;  his  History  of 
English  Poetry,  192-4 ;  Gray 
and  the  History,  192  ;  presented 
to  living  of  Cuddington,  194  ; 
appointed  Camden  Professor  of 
History  at  Oxford,  195  ;  be- 
comes Poet  Laureate,  195  ; 
"  Peter  Pindar  "  and,  195  ; 
Probationary  Odes  for  the  Lau- 
reateship,  196  ;  his  Laureate 
odes,  196-9  ;  revives  the  son- 
net, 199  ;  love  of  nature,  199  ; 
his  humorous  verse,  199  ;  edits 
Milton's  minor  poems,  200 ; 
death,  200 ;  personal  charac- 
teristics and  eccentricities, 
200-3  ;  Southey  and  History  of 
English  Poetry,  237 

,  Thomas,  the  elder,   186 

Wat  Tyler.  Southey's,  229-32,  234 

Waterloo.   116 

Watson,  Edward,  university  lau- 
reate, 6 

,  Mr.  William,  282 

"  Weathercock,"    (Charles  Town- 
send),   171 

Webster,   John,   his   White  Devil, 
102 

Welcome  to  Alexandra ,  Tennyson's, 
269 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  Tennyson's 
ode  on  death  of,  2,  262-4 

Welsted,  Leonard,  poetaster,   147 

Welwood,  Dr.,   115,   126,  129 

West  Saxons,  212 

Westminster,  208 

— —  Abbey,  39,  54,  95,  96,   127, 
128,   129,   184 

__  School,   115 

White  Devil,  Webster's,  102 

Whitechapel,   164 

Whitefriars,  94 

Whitehall  Palace,  18,  24,  38,  49, 
62,  239 


Whitehead,  William,  21,  185, 
195,  196,  204 ;  politics  versus 
the  Muses,  167 ;  Laureate- 
ship  offered  to  Thomas  Gray, 
167-8  ;  reasons  for  declining, 
168 ;  William  Mason  and 
the  laurel,  169  ;  appointment 
of,  169  ;  his  perfunctory 
odes,  169-70 ;  a  Cambridge 
man,  170 ;  at  Winchester  Col- 
lege, 170 ;  youthful  studies, 
170 ;  translates  Pope's  Essay 
on  Man,  170  ;  a  sizar  at  Clare 
Hall,  171  ;  a  poetical  follower 
of  Pope,  171  ;  Gray  criticises 
his  poem  on  Friendship,  171  ; 
becomes  tutor  to  Viscount 
Villiers,  172 ;  relations  with 
Jersey  family,  172-3 ;  writes 
for  the  stage,  173  ;  The  Roman 
Father,  173  ;  Garrick  and,  173  ; 
early  poems,  174  ;  The  Goat's 
Beard,  174-5  ;  foreign  travel, 
175  ;  succeeds  Cibber  as  Lau- 
reate, 175  ;  Gray  and  Gibbon 
on  first  birthday  ode,  176  ; 
Verses  to  the  People  of  England, 
176-7  ;  ode  on  George  Ill's 
accession,  177-8 ;  The  Enthu- 
siast, 179  ;  A  Charge  to  the 
Poets,  180;  Churchill's  attack 
on,  180-1  ;  his  reply,  181  ; 
Pathetic  Apology  for  all  Lau- 
reates, 182 ;  a  drawing-room 
Laureate,  182  ;  his  aristocratic 
leanings,  182  ;  his  drab  exist- 
ence, 183;  Boswell  and.  183; 
his  death,  184 
"  Whitehead's  Folly,"  170 
WTiitelocke,  Lord-keeper,  aids  in 

releasing  D'Avenant,  44,  47 
Whittington,    Robert,    university 

laureate,  7 
Who  Would  not  Die  for  England? 

Austin's  poem,  283 
Why  come  ye  vot  to  Coutt  ?  Skel- 

ton's,  13 
Wilks,  actor,   151 
Will's  coffee-house,  63,  78 
William  III.  56.  80,  89,  90,   105, 
106,    116,    117;     Dryden    and, 
j       77  ;    Shadwell's  poems  on,  93  ; 


INDEX 


315 


William  III  (60)2;;.)— 

licenses  Tate  and  Brady's  ver- 
sion of  the  Psalms,  109 

—  IV,  237 
of  Prussia,  227 

of  Orange,  Prince,  227,  228 

of  Wykeham,  148 

Willoughby    de    Broke,    Richard, 

Lord,   141 

Wilson,  Prof.  John  ("  Christopher 
North"),  185,  194,  200 

Winchester  School,  148,  170,  201 

Windsor  Castle,  143,  254,  284 

Wits,  D'Avenant's,  The,  37 

Wolcot,  Dr.  John  ("  Peter  Pin- 
dar"), 123,  195,  205 

Wolf,  Dr.,   152 

Wolsey,  Cardinal,  Whittington's 
poem  on,  7  ;  Skelton's  satire 
on,   13 

Woman  Captain,  Shadwell's,  84 

Wooll,   191 

Wordsworth,  Christopher,  nephew 
of  the  poet,  248,  250 

,  Dora,  daughter  of  the  poet, 

247,  250 

,  Gordon,  grandson  of  poet, 

289 

,  William,   20,  55,   133,    185, 

230,  252,  253,  254,  256,  286, 
289  ;  his  epitaph  on  Southey, 
238  ;     figures   in    Bon    GatiUier 


Wordbworth,  Wilham  {coyit.) — 
Ballads,  240  ;  his  unique  posi- 
tion as  Laureate,  240  ;  signifi- 
cance of  his  appointment,  240-1; 
Peel's  letter  to,  241  ;  his 
acceptance,  242 ;  a  sonnet 
which  W.  never  wrote,  243  ;  a 
national  recognition  of  poetr\% 

244  ;  attends  a  State  ball,  244  ; 
his  impressions  of  the  function, 

245  ;  appreciation  of  Tennyson, 
245  ;  presents  copy  of  his 
poems  to  Queen  Victoria,  246  ; 
the  Cambridge  Installation  ode, 
247-51  ;    his  Laureateship,  251 

Worth  of  a  Penny,  75 
Wycherley,    William,    dramatist, 

82    130 
Wykeham,  William  of,  148 

Xavier,  Bouhours's  Life  of  St. 
Francis,  translated  by  Dryden, 
75-6 


York,  44,   133 
Yorkshire,   133 


Zazezizozu,  289 

"  Zimri  "  (Duke  of  Buclcingham) 
61.  67 


THE   END 


Printed  by  Sir   Isaac  Pitman  &  Sons,  Ltd.,  Bath 
U34') 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  608  558    3 


3-^sn^ 


^73 


JNIVERSITY  OF  CA,  RIVERSIDE  LIBRARY 


3  1210  01285  0309 


